Trust Me
by 14Checker
Summary: It's been two months since Bell moved in with our favorite super-heroines. The girls are constantly on edge. Can she be trusted? And what evil will come of all this? The boys seem to know... I don't own PPG or Bell.
1. Blossom

**From Chex: **Yes, I'm writing the sequel to "So Here I Am" since people seemed to like it and want more. I can't honestly say how dependable I'll be as far as updates go. But I'll try my best so bear with me. Please note that while Bell is a PPGD character, the setting is PPG. So everything's taking place in Townsville. Nothing has changed.

* * *

"Um, hey Blossom?" A cautious voice called out to me from my doorway. I was laid out casually on my bed, going over my Algebra 2 homework.

"Yes, Bell?" I asked, not looking up.

"What was the homework for Ms. Lytell's class?"

I flipped back a page from where I started. "Page 276 and 277," I said levelly, without any emotion whatsoever. She thanked me and quickly left.

It's been about two months since Bell appeared on our doorstep. She came with literally nothing but the clothes on her back and that ridiculous green dog/robot she lugs around everywhere. When the Professor let her in that day I experienced what may very well be the most awkward exchange ever.

Which followed the longest silence ever.

Buttercup, naturally, was the first to recover and tensed for a fight. She waited for Bell to make the first move and the girl did nothing. She hugged that dog and stared at the floor until Buttercup lost what little patience she has and started yelling obscenities some of us had never even heard.

Bell claimed that she wanted to start over. That she was "sick of her life" and "wanted to change". Now, I'm never one to judge, but the girl tried to kill me. For which, she promptly apologized and, I admit, it sounded sincere. She even held that dog in front of my face and made it apologize too. Though I'm not sure, "I'm sorry I'm so squishy!" counts as an apology. But what kind of leader would I be if I just bought that and let her waltz into our home? After I figured out her intent was to stay with us, _live with us_, my first instinct was to kick her out, slam the door, and never look back.

But the Professor obviously wasn't thinking on the same wavelength as me since he told her she was "more than welcome" to stay.

Buttercup, however, _was_ since she immediately protested along with me. I remember her shouting something like: "You can't let that evil, ghost-faced bitch and her puking dog stay here!" Not that I approved of her language, but she got the point across.

Then the Professor sat us down on the couch like five-year-olds and gave us the speech on how people can change and that Bell seemed like she had. He also explained that while Bell grew up in an evil environment and was raised the way she was, the fact that she realized that her lifestyle was wrong was an improvement in character.

Bell stood awkwardly behind him, staring down at her feet.

Now the Professor may buy her story, but he doesn't understand the way evil minds think.

Not like I do, anyway. I know it's those evil values and lack of morals she was raised on is the reason we need to keep on our toes. People can change. But not overnight. And not that much. No one completely rearranges their lifestyle in a day. Why should she be an exception? One chance is all she needs to ruin our lives when she's this close. And I can't let that happen.

So after he explained the house rules to her (curfew, school, chores, etc.), I explained the REAL rules. That she was to be monitored closely until she could be trusted. That she was to have absolutely **no** contact with anyone we didn't know. That she was to assist us in all crime fighting and failure to do so would be considered treason. And that even the tiniest infraction of these rules would result in her getting kicked out. And most importantly that we would fight her if we considered her a threat to our family or our town.

She agreed to everything. Her exact words were: "If you suspect me of anything at all then you have every right to throw me out. I won't object."

Since then, she's done nothing to evoke suspicion. _Yet. _The girl's not stupid. I know whatever she's up to, she'll do a good job of hiding it, which is why I have to constantly be on my guard and have eyes in the back of my head. She practically tip-toes around me. Like that's not reason enough to be suspicious.

As if living with a villain isn't bad enough, I'm forced to attend school with her.

My natural ambition and hunger for knowledge has always made school enjoyable for me. Never in my life have I felt forced to attend the educational system. I'm well aware of how many children around the world aren't fortunate enough to obtain an education. I _relish_ mine. It's my pride, being smart, having people come to be because they know I'll have the answer, being more influential than others simply because of how much I know. It's my ultimate joy.

Or _was_. Until _she_ came.

Somehow. _Somehow_. The girl has manged to get into nearly ALL my classes! Naturally, I'm in all the highest, most advanced classes available at Pokey Oaks High. And so is she.

The Professor enrolled her about a week after she "moved in"--I still shudder just thinking of it. She was placed in regular class at first, where she belongs, in my opinion. But apparently she was "far ahead of her classmates" and wasn't "being challenged intellectually". Please.

But I can't deny that she's smart. We have the exact same schedule, apart from electives and our foreign language classes(I'm taking Chinese 2 and She's in French 2 ). And she gets great grades on everything. The girl's hiding a brain under that thick white hair.

What concerns me is _how _she got so smart. She never studies. Her notes are doodled on and usually end up in the garbage after class. She does the homework assignments in homeroom--if she remembers. If not, she does them at lunch. So I want someone to tell me how it is that she's practically at MY level! Me! Blossom Utonium! Honor Roll & Honor Society student! A constant straight-A kid!

Yes, it bothers me. Of course it bothers me. A villian is one thing. But a _smart villain_ is another thing entirely. And a dangerous thing at that.

I can't allow myself to trust her. And I can't allow anyone else to either. She's a villain. She's got a plan. Any villain asinine enough to willingly go to the Powerpuff Girls has a plan, whether its well put together or not. And she's no exception.

Buttercup, as far as I can tell, knows this and has made no move to get to know her. Or get anywhere near her for that matter. And Bell has obviously gotten the hint of Buttercups snubs and glares and keeps her distance. So I suppose I won't have to worry so much about her.

It's Bubbles I need to be concerned about. Her naivete may be our downfall. She fully bought into the Professor's speech on change as well as Bell's story. Bubbles is very sweet and caring and just downright innocent on the inside, even though she's nearly sixteen. And for some unfathomable reason, she seems to believe that somewhere deep down everyone has that same innocence. She doesn't understand that, while that may be true for some people, villains aren't like that.

Bubbles and Bell sit together at lunch, hang out at home, and Bubbles is even trying to convince Bell to join the cheerleading squad with her. And while it all seems innocent enough, I don't want Bubbles divulging any important information about us. Did I mention that Bell is sharing a room with her since clearly Buttercup and I weren't accepting applications for roommates. I'm sure Bell is here for the same reason as all villains who try to get close to us: To find our weaknesses. While that's the basic and obvious reason, it's still a good one for her.

And its also the only one I can think of.

I groaned and rolled over onto my side. A villain has been living in our home for two months and I have yet to figure out her motive. _What kind of leader am I?_

And not just a villain. But a _smart villain_. And a _powerful_ one two. I knew that from the first time I fought her. She's stronger than me, that much I'll admit. And I'd sooner admit it than say she's smarter than me. But during one of our training spars I actually got to watch her fight...

Every week we do what we refer to as Versus Battles because it's Powerpuff vs. Powerpuff. We fight each other in the extended part of the basement that's used for training. Bell easily beat Bubbles, and we sparred for a bit before she defeated me with a high kick. Of course I wasn't trying my hardest simply because I didn't want to give away any of my strategies or my full power. But what shocked me was that she beat Buttercup.

And I wasn't the only one who was shocked.

Needless to say, Buttercup didn't take this defeat well at all. She demanded a rematch, which she won, but I can't help but wonder if Bell let her. She could easily challenge Buttercup's title as "The Strongest Puff". Not that I'd tell either of them that. Buttercup would be completely enraged with everyone. Me for telling her. Bell for obvious reasons. And herself for not being stronger, which is ludicrous because she's terrifyingly powerful.

And Bell...she must know. If she really did let Buttercup win then she must be well aware that she's a huge threat to us. There's no reason for me to tell her. She's fought all three of us. She has an idea of our strength and power. So why hasn't she attacked?

I mean, she obviously couldn't take all of us at the same time. She defeated Buttercup, but it was a pretty close fight. But she could've taken us out one by one. Separated us and then initiated the fight. But she hasn't. Maybe she hasn't seen that option yet. I just did. It may take her a little longer. She hasn't tried anything like that. _She hasn't tried anything at all._ She doesn't make suggestions, not that she has a right to. But she does whatever I tell her to or whatever Bubbles suggests. She follows all my orders, although I can see in her eyes that she gets irritated with some of them. But she never reacts.

That's another thing. Her eyes. Pure white and clear. They're like mirrors. On most people that would be extremely scary, creepy and, in some cases, disgusting. But on her it's just innocent. Cute even. In fact, any other eye color on her would be creepy. But because her eyes are so bright and clear you can practically read her emotions in them. Anger, sadness, joy, pain, everything. Which makes it hard to distrust her when you're practically a hundred percent sure she's being honest.

But I still do. It's just that lack of suspicion that makes her more suspicious.(If that makes sense)

Bell is just as cute and sweet as Bubbles, as tough as Buttercup, and _almost_ as smart as me. It's like she somehow gathered all our best traits. She could very well be the greatest enemy we've ever faced. Even greater than--

"Blossom!" Bubbles's blonde head pops into my room. "Do you wanna watch a movie? The Professor says we can choose something on pay-per-view this time!"

I smile at her, glad for the break from my thoughts. I'm fairly sure a rant was coming on. "Sure, Bubbles. I'll be down in a minute."

"Okay!" She disappears again and I hear her voice down the hall. "She said she's coming!"

I assume she's talking to Bell and I frown, but I get up and go downstairs anyway to sit in front of the big plasma screen. Bubbles has gone off to try and get Buttercup down here. Doubtful.

Bell is curled up on a corner of the couch, holding her dog on her lap. I sit at the opposite end. She glances at me and gives me a soft smile which I don't return. After that she turns away and pets her little dog, focusing intently on one of its ears. When the subject of her keeping her pet came up she explained to the Professor that "Gir" wasn't really a dog, but a robot, which, if you ask me, is the very reason he should have told her to get rid of it. But after that Professor checked it over it seemed that Gir, or "Girly" as Bell calls him, is defective(which explains the insipid things it says) and doesn't perform any real robotic functions. Not even the basic video or audio recording. And since he wasn't an actual animal, and thus, wouldn't leave any, er, droppings, ruin any furniture, or shed, he was allowed.

I found myself staring at Bell. She was pretty. Beautiful even. She has pure-white hair that's nearly as long as mine. A lock hung in front of her face and she wore a simple black headband. Her skin was soft and pale without a freckle or blemish anywhere as far as I could tell. She was wearing a light-blue jean miniskirt and a simple black tank top that she borrowed from Bubbles. Both showed off her long limbs and curved body. She was definitely what most people would call beautiful. You could tell that much not just by looking at her, but by the way the guys at school reacted to her. Not to mention the reporters.

While I don't consider us "celebrities" most people do. Our heroics are displayed in almost every paper. And we've done a few magazine spreads and interviews(Bubbles more so than the rest of us). We've even been on TV, but so have a lot of people. But we go to school like normal teenagers and we don't really have to worry about paparazzi because we're all over town all the time. Pictures are no novelty.

But the town is practically eating Bell up. A new Puff is huge news to everyone. But we didn't allow her any interviews and have refused to talk to reporters about her. So what do they do when they can't get a word out of us?

They make up their own stories and snap whatever pictures they can manage. She's been called "The Angel Puff", "The Pure One" and "The Limited Edition Puff" of which they're already making dolls after her. I can't believe people can be so blind!

For a moment, I was jealous. How could someone so evil and powerful look so beautiful and angelic?

She caught me staring. "Is there something on my face?"

I shook my head and diverted my eyes.

I wouldn't trust her. I couldn't trust her. She's evil, and that's never going to change. And she's up to something. Something that will probably destroy us all if I don't stop her. I won't let my guard down. And I won't let her get away with whatever she's plotting. She hasn't slipped up yet. But she will.

And I'll be watching.

* * *

**From Chex:** This turned out better than I expected. I enjoyed writing it too. Please review! I'll update when I can. Next chapter will be Buttercup's point of view, I think.


	2. Buttercup

**From Chex: **I can't believe I'm already typing the second chapter. But the first one turned out so well that I got inspired. I realize this story could be classified as a lot of things. Family/Friendship/Hurt-Comfort/Angst/etc. Even a little romance later on(NO! No femslash or anything gay/bi!). As promised, this is Buttercup's POV.

* * *

I blasted my way through at least twenty goo monsters without even breaking a sweat. I could hear my sisters cheering me on in the distance. The monsters deteriated and I was about to tell the Professor to raise the level when the entire simulation faded away and I was left in the empty white-tiled room.

"What gives?!" I shouted. I was just getting warmed up. I'm pretty sure I was only on level 42. My all-time best was 57. "I'm not done yet!"

The Professor motioned for me to come out and I groaned, stomping my way into the control room. I crossed my arms and waited for an explanation. I. Was. In. The. ZONE! I could've broken my record! I could feel it! And he _stopped me_!

He sighed, "I just wanted to try something different." I glanced at Blossom and Bubbles, and they seemed as confused as I was. "Well, I just thought that since there are four of you girls now..." I scoffed and he gave me one of those disapproving-father looks. "that it would be beneficial to all of you if we added two-on-two battles to the training itinerary."

"Tag-teaming? Are you serious?" I yelled. The idea itself didn't upset me. Additional training honestly sounded like a better way to spend Saturday morning than anything else. Well, except maybe sleeping.

What I wanted to know was who he planned to pair up with _her_.

"Now Buttercup, I want you to be open-minded about this," he said calmly. "I think it could help improve teamwork among you girls. And...other issues as well." If that was his subtle way of hinting that we needed to get along more with Bell than I wasn't buying it. The girl was bad news.

"Fine. Then I'm with Blossom," I said, sending Bell a quick glare and making sure that she knew I wasn't interested in working with her. I can barely believe she's been here for over two months already. I can't wait for the bitch to screw up and get kicked out on her ass.

"No. Blossom's with Bell. You're with Bubbles." I saw Blossom stiffen and Bubbles looked disappointed. So was I. Nothing against Bubbles personally, but she sorta has a hard time holding her own in battle. She wouldn't be much of a partner. Not that I needed help.

"Whatever."

And just like that, we were all shoved into the Simulation Training Room(STR). After a few minutes of button-pressing the tile floor turned into a large, arena-sized battle ground. A chalk line separated the vast area into two sides. Me and Bubbles stood opposite Blossom and Bell. It was obvious who was going for who. And I wouldn't wait.

That little wench got lucky last week. She better not think one win makes her tougher because she's got another thing coming if she does. And I did win the rematch. Winning this match should put her in her place.

A countdown was heard through the invisible speakers. I glanced over at Bubbles. She was looking nervously between Bell and Blossom. I honestly feel sorry for her sometimes. It must suck being the weakest out of all of us. But I know from experience if Bubbles really wanted to toughen up she could.

**10...9...8...7...**I looked over at Blossom, who looked like she really wanted to get this over with. Working with Bell wasn't exactly a joy for her either. Blossom's been going extra hard on Bell since she joined, giving her the grunt work when fighting monsters and forcing clean-up duty on her when it's over.(All that gore and guts doesn't clean themselves up.) I know part of the reason is that she considers Bell as much of an enemy as Mojo or Him. Which is something we agree on, for once. But I also know she's a little steamed that Bell's a brainiac too.

Typical Blossy. Can't handle her spotlight being taken away.

**...6...5...4...** I don't get why the Professor didn't just stick Bubbles with Bell. She's the only one willing to deal with her. I can't believe she brought into the whole "I want to change" sob story. But leave it to her to be the gullible one. I just hope she isn't blabbing anything stupid like where the Professor keeps his X-proof weapons...

**3...2...1...**_**Ding!**_ A ringer went off and I immediately shot towards the witch. She jumped back and shot passed me. Out of the corner of my eye I could faintly see blue and pink blurs whizz by but I wasn't paying any attention to that. I had my target.

Her eyes narrowed on me. For a minute I was shocked she had the nerve to glare at me, but then I realized she was just really focused.

She tried a dive-kick and I dodged it. Her foot left a reasonably sized crater in the ground. I know from our last fight that she's better at long-range attacks so I made sure not to give her enough distance to pull anything. I blasted her with an energy beam. A ringing, sonic sound was produced. She rose up into the air, just out of range of my attack, and got me with her laser vision. The strap of my black tank top was singed and it slipped off my shoulder. It left a burn mark that I predicted would heal in less than ten minutes. She zipped over and did a three-punch combo with a high-kick before I even had time to cover myself. Her fists where a flurry of white, but the blows were easily distinguishable. One landed hard on my left cheek and I anticipated a fleeting bruise. The kick landed square in my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I landed on my back several yards away. and she jumped away from me. Waiting for me to get up.

I rose to my feet before she had I chance to think I was worn out. I glared hard at her. "You better not be going easy on me!" Her eyes flashed brightly, like she enjoyed the challenge. She attacked me with an energy beam of her own. I noticed our energy blasts work in very similar ways. Both strike the ground with such a force that it erupts through the Earth and strikes the oppenent underneath, knocking them off their feet and into the air. A ground-based attack.

But hers was slightly bigger.

I jumped up, but not quick enough. I was thrown back a few yards and barely landed on my feet. I growled and was about to try my new electric attack on her when Blossom was thrown into the wall behind me. I saw Bell zoom in between her and Bubbles and intercept Bubbles's double blast, a spiral of blue energy sent from both her hands, which isn't that hard to do. Bubbles's attack have power, but they lack speed, which is weird since she's the most agile.

"Stay on Buttercup!" Blossom snapped. "I can take care of myself!" She was right. How dare she just cut into their fight while we're in the middle of something! What? _Was this not entertaining enough for her?_

An electric charge built up in my hands and I could feel my hair start to stand on end. Bell turned back to me just in time to get hit with one of my most powerful attacks. It struck her dead-on. She screamed as she was thrown hard against the wall and then slumped to the ground once my attack wore off.

I smirked. Not only is it seriously powerful, but that attack has side-effects. Paralysis being the most common. I walked slowly over to Bell. She was started to breath heavy. Good. Maybe now she's taking this seriously. "Had enough?"

She groaned and then her body went limp. I took a step closer. She didn't really give out so quick did she? Our last fight lasted longer than this.

Then a blinding white light emitted from her body. It burned when it touched me and I screamed. The light covered me and it felt like I was being punched swiftly all over while my skin was boiling hot. There was nothing I could do about it. My entire body stung, my eyes squeezed shut. The pain was making me dizzy...

I faintly heard Bubbles scream somewhere in the distance. I couldn't focus. I was confused and my body was going numb and the only thought I could even understand at the moment was: _I can't believe I'm losing!_I blinked my eyes open and kept blinking to keep them that way. I wasn't going to lose consciousness. Like Hell I'd ever give her that satisfaction!

Yeah, I'm stubborn. What of it?

"Buttercup!" Someone screamed my name. "Oh, _crap_! I'm sorry!" Bell's form was fuzzy but distinguishable. I felt her grab my arm, but not in an attack sort of way. More in a Let-me-help-you! sort of way. And it ticked me off. "Can you stand up?"

I tried to shove her away and failed. "S-Screw off. I'm fine," I hissed at her, finally focusing my eyes enough to glare. I looked around and saw that the room was back to it's small, white-tile form. "Don't tell me you stopped the fight!"

"No, I did," the Professor announced as he opened the door for us to come out. I came out behind Blossom and Bubbles. Bell was standing cautiously behind me, like she didn't think I'd make it to the door without collapsing. "I think that's enough for today." I was about to protest, but Blossom went into a rant she'd clearly been trying to hold back. And, surprise surprise, it was directed at Bell.

"What were you thinking?! You _imbecile_! You could've seriously hurt her!" I snorted but she ignored me and continued, "This was a training simulation! _Training!_ Were you trying to kill her?!"

Bell's eyes were wide but narrowed slightly at the accusation. "N-No! Of course not...I-I wouldn't--" I could barely understand a word she was saying. Her face was a mix between fury and sadness and I could tell she was fighting back tears. Baby. I can't believe she got the upper-hand on me! And why the Hell did the Professor stop us?! I wasn't out yet! I could've gotten her! I looked at my shoulder that my now-tattered tank top exposed. My skin was smooth and nothing remained of the burn but a fading redness. I touched my cheek. It stung slightly, but more like a week-old bruise than a fresh one.

"Were you thinking at all about her safety?! You can't possibly think you can join us and treat your teammates like--"

"Shut the Hell up!" I shouted. Blossom was being ridiculous. "It's a fight! She isn't supposed to be thinking of my safety! She's supposed to be trying to beat me!" What did Blossom think I was? Defenseless? Just 'cause Bell can kick _her_ ass any day of the week doesn't mean she can beat me just as easily.

Blossom turned her glare on me. I was about to tell her she'd look more intimidating if her eyes weren't such a sissy color, but I stopped myself. That wasn't the point. "Are you defending her?" She asked coldly.

"No! I'm just saying you need to stop acting like I can't defend myself! She wasn't going to 'seriously injure' me or whatever the Hell else you were talking about. She was doing what she was supposed to be doing. **Fighting**!" Ok, so maybe I was standing up for Bell but that was involuntary and inevitable.(Ha! And Mr. Sumon had the nerve to fail me on the vocab test.)

I turned to Bell. "Forget all the shit she just said! The next time we fight you better not hold anything back!" I stared hard at her, not glaring, but waiting for her to respond.

She looked between me and Blossom before finally settling her watery eyes on mine. Her look hardened and she gave me a firm nod. I wasn't surprised. I bet Bell was biting at the chance to defy Blossom without over-stepping her boundaries.

But that doesn't mean I'm on her side.

"Alright," the Professor sighed. "That's enough." Lately, he's given up on trying to calm us down in the middle of an argument, realizing there's no point in trying. Now he just waits it out. "I understand your concern, Blossom, but I believe Buttercup would've been fine." I smirked and Blossom glowered at both of us. But I knew she wouldn't disagree with the Professor. Especially when no one seemed to agree with her, and Bubbles, who usually stands faithfully behind, too soft-spoken to argue, was asking if Bell was okay.

Bell nodded. "I'm sorry," she said to me.

I growled, "What did I just--"

"No. I didn't mean 'I'm sorry for beating you'. I meant I'm sorry if you got hurt."

My eyes flashed and I felt the familiar flame that was anger burning inside me. "_What?_ You did **not** beat me! Our fight was interrupted!"

She looked like she wasn't buying it, but she didn't deny it either. "Whatever." There were about a million things I could've said to that, a million insults, curses, and threats just dancing on my tongue. But at the moment I was too consumed my the flame of anger that, by now, had erupted into a raging fire. She twirled a long strand of her freakish, white hair. I hate it when girls to that. It's so...girlie. "Sorry though."

"Don't apologize. I'm fine." Better than you'll be in a couple minutes if you don't shut your mouth.

"Didn't look like it."

I made a move towards her. "_Do I look like it now?_" She rose an eyebrow at me but didn't say anything. I could tell she caught the challenge in that and, apparently, so did the Professor. He grabbed my arm.

"_No_. He said firmly. "As I said, that's not the reason I discontinued the fight. And I don't intend to let you resume it," he said directly to me. I crossed my arms in the classic rebellious stance at which I was an expert. Enough to show I wasn't agreeing, but not enough to be considered defiant. Perfect.

"So why'd you cut it short?" Blossom asked, never one to be left out.

"Because I felt you girls weren't getting the point of the exercise. It was meant to help you all better work together as a team. But what I saw out there was two separate one-on-one battles that just happened to be going on in the same arena. And from what I saw, Bell is the only one who seemed to understand that it was meant to be a tag-battle."

"What?" Red asked, barely hiding her shock. Yes, God forbid someone understands something that she didn't get.

"When Bell intercepted Bubbles's attack she was assisting you, like a partner should. You shouldn't have chided her for that." He turned away from Blossom. "Good job, Bell."

Bell seemed just as shocked as Blossom. "Um, thanks."

Blossom was clearly unhappy with this. She looked, as unbelievable as this sounds, kind of murderous. I'm usually the only one who gets like that. As I've been told, I have enough of a temper for all three of us. Just like Bubbles has enough tears and Blossom has enough, um, sense, I guess.

Or hair. Seriously. It reaches her ankles now.

"That's enough training for today."

At that announcement, Blossom stormed out of the room. I followed, itching to get out of the house and blow off some steam. Maybe I could go crush things at the construction site downtown. I bet they won't notice a few missing cinder blocks and construction bars...

Bell came up behind me with Bubbles on her heel. I could feel her watching me and it irritated me. There was something wrong with this girl. She's so girlie and sensitive whenever she's with Bubbles or the Professor, or whenever Blossom yells, and then she gets on the battle field and turns into a warrior! If there's anything I can't stand, it's a person with a fake personality.

I thought of all the preppy, snotty, cheer-heads Bubbles hangs out with and how Bell would easily fit in with them. Cute on the outside, evil on the inside. That must be how she works.

I remembered that determined, focused look in her eyes just before we started fighting. I muttered a curse under my breath. I wasn't going to trust that cutesy, self-conscious little girl she pretended to be. It was a lie. _She_'s a lie. There's a fighter underneath there and I'll be damned if I let her catch me off guard.

I watched her follow Bubbles into the kitchen to get a snack, chatting like old friends. Like she wasn't planning at that very minute when and how to destroy us. Like..._sisters_.

My body tensed at the thought. She's not our sister and she never will be. She may be a Powerpuff Girl for the moment, but she will **never** be a member of this family.

I'll make sure of that.

* * *

**From Chex:** Another good chapter, I believe. Though I'm not getting many reviews. **I will not keep writing if people don't review! **Next chapter will be Bubbles's POV since it just makes sense that way.


	3. Bubbles

**From Chex: **Back again. Not much to say. Bubbles's POV this time.

* * *

"Wow! This blush looks great on you!" I complimented Bell as I lightly applied her make-up in front of my vanity mirror. It's so fun to finally have a sister who's into make-up, hair, and clothes like I am. Bell isn't a shopaholic like me, but she knows fashion, that's for sure. Blossom's normally into the "natural look." And Buttercup...Ha! Forget it.

"Really?" She examined her face from different angles. "I guess it's okay," she said, permitting a small smile to grace her face. I had suggested a light dusting of rosy blush, sheer pink lip gloss, and pale eyeshadow along with a bit of mascara and eyeliner. It went well with the pale pink baby tee and light-blue jeans she had on. While we had bought a few things, we hadn't yet established a full wardrobe for Bell yet so she was borrowing my clothes. Not that I had a problem with sharing. I have more than enough clothes to fill a warehouse. All organized by color. I look best in blue, no surprise there, but I like other colors too.

Bell's neutral hair and eye color left her open to a whole palette of colors in both clothes and make-up. It's so much fun shopping with her!

I tilted her face up as I completed the eyeliner. "Aaand....done!" I sighed and capped the lids on all the make-up. "C'mon. We should hurry. Blossom's probably gone by now."

Bell nodded, her face guarded. The meer mention of Blossom's name seems to put her in bad spirits.

I grabbed my blue and yellow backpack and headed out the door. Bell followed me downstairs, her denim shoulder-bag slung up on her arm.

I rounded the corner into the kitchen to grab an oatmeal breakfast bar. Or "sugar-less granola bar" according to Buttercup. But unlike her, I actually care about my diet and figure. Bell said she wasn't hungry and went into the living room to wait for me. I noticed early on that Bell isn't really a morning person. She hardly speaks at all until around 9 o'clock. But she never gets annoyed or snaps at me for waking her up when I get up, which is usually around six.

Buttercup sat at the table with a cup of black coffee in her hand. Her short, spiky hair was suffering from a mild case of bed-head, and her eyes were barely open.

"You know that stuff stunts your growth, right?" I said, indicating the mug in her hand as I reached for my bar in the cupboard.

She snorted, "We can't all run on birdseed in the morning, you know." She eyed my breakfast bar disdainfully. I rolled my eyes.

"Blossom went on ahead?"

She grunted, which I took as a 'yes'. Blossom always leaves before us, so asking is kind of pointless, but for some reason I feel the need to. I like to know where my sisters are.

I returned to Bell, who was waiting patiently in the living room, pretending to watch the news. She turned to me. "Ready?"

After a quick re-check of my outfit, a white and turquoise layered tank top with a lacy hem, a bluish-green crop jacket, and a jean miniskirt, I said, "Yep. Sure you don't want anything?"

"No thanks."

The flight to school was relaxing. Flying is my favorite part of being a super-heroine. The wind against your face and hair is so refreshing! Breezing through clouds, zooming past birds and planes, you get this amazing weightless feeling that makes you tingle all over. It's indescribable.

And amazing.

Bell and I landed gracefully on the front steps of the school, grasping the attention of a thin throng of students. A crop of upper-class guys hooted and whistled at us, and I felt my cheeks start to burn. A downside to flying? People can sometimes get a peek up your skirt.

But Bell strode ahead confidently, without so much as a glance in their direction. I followed closely behind.

Shortly after, we drifted towards my clique: The jocks and cheerleaders. The preps. The people Buttercup hates with her very being and soul. Yeah. They're my friends.

The conversation drifted to the upcoming football game. I'm not a huge sports fan, but as a cheerleader I feel it's my duty to fake it most of the time. I mean, you don't have to know everything about a sport to support it, right? And besides, I don't think any of the other girls really know a thing about football. At least, they never talk about it unless the team is around, in which case they nod and smile throughout most of the conversation.

We only had a few minutes to get to class. Not that it mattered much. Bell and I could be to class in a matter of seconds if we really needed to. No one else seems to care whether they're late or not, mainly because none of them ever really get in trouble for it. I'm not sure why.

"We better head to our lockers, right, Bell?" I asked. Her eyes were dull and she had this devastatingly bored expression on her face, but she focused back on me when I spoke.

"Yeah," she smiled.

"Yeah, I guess," Amy said. She barely looked at us, and it didn't seem like anyone was moving. Amy Satchel's captain of the squad. The rest of the girls seem to flock around her. They hang on her every word, no matter how dull. Not that I've ever said she's dull, but she's not the most exciting person I've ever met. On the bus ride to an away game last season she spent the near-two-hour ride talking about her nail beds. Ugh.

"Later, Bubs," Ryan said, giving me a smile which I returned. I don't really like the nickname, but I haven't said anything since it's caught on and most of the guys call me that. Like they can't take the time to fully pronounce 'Bubbles'. "See ya at lunch."

Bell and I left to get to our lockers down the other hallway. The lockers are ordered alphabetically so me and my sisters are all close together. Bell's locker was originally going to me at the opposite end of the hall since she's a new student and had to take one of the available lockers left. But somehow she convinced Tyler Wytell, the kid whose locker was next to mine, to switch with her.

We grabbed our stuff and had about two minutes left to spare. Bell slumped against the locker. "No offense, Bubblegum, but your friends are like soooo boring," she groaned. Bell speaks with just a hint of a valley-girl accent. Not enough to be annoying, but enough to be cute and girlish.

Bubblegum. Now that's a cute nickname.

"I don't think they are," I said quietly.

"All they talk about is football, clothes, make-up, and who's-dating-who."

But that's just it. I _like_ all of those things. Apart from the football. No one seems to get that those things just interest me. Like sports interest Buttercup and books interest Blossom. It's like they don't even try to understand.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. I love clothes and make-up and gossip as much as the next girl, but there _is_ more to life. I mean, more to talk about at least. I don't know. Maybe I'm just ranting. Forget I said anything." Bell sighed and brushed that odd strand of white hair away from her face. It flopped back into place. I don't understand why she doesn't just put it _underneath_ the headband so it won't get in the way, but maybe she likes it like that. I wouldn't be able to stand it.

"Don't worry about it. I get what you mean," I said. "I still think you should join the squad. There's no question you'd make the team, being a Powerpuff and all." I didn't mean that to sound conceited or anything, but with our superpowers we're way more agile than normal girls so the routines are that much easier.

Bell made a face. "Not for me. So what are you going to say to Ryan?"

...Huh? "What do you mean?"

"When he asks you out."

I blinked and then giggled. Bell's so funny sometimes! "Ryan's not going to ask me out."

She looked at me like I was oblivious. I stopped laughing. When people do that it makes me feel kind of stupid. I know I'm the blonde and everything and I'm not the brightest girl in school, but I'm not an idiot. "He is so. Did you see the way he was looking at you? Trust me, he'll come for you sometime this week."

"No way." I whispered.

"Wanna bet?"

No. No I didn't. And not just because I don't gamble. Ryan asking me out could very well be the worst thing that could ever happen to me. He's Amy's ex! They dated for like a year until about a month ago. No one's gotten the full story on why they broke up, but from what I've heard, Amy was fed up with Ryan's "ways". Whatever that means. Ryan seems like a nice guy and everything, but the last thing I need is for Amy's ex to be all over me. She'll hate me, which will pretty much make life a living Hell.

"I really have to school you in the ways of men," Bell continued, not noticing my anguish. "I'd figure you'd be more aware when a guy's checking you out. You know, since practically every guy in school has his eyes on you."

"Sure. Maybe it's the person standing next to me that they're looking at. How many guys have asked you out since you got here?"

"Nine."

"My point exac--....Oh no. Here _they_ come."

I could tell immediately by the way everything quieted and people moved aside that the Rowdyruff Boys were coming through. Their presence is kind of hard to miss.

Brick, naturally, took centerstage as they made their way down the hall, glaring fiercly at anyone who dared to make eye-contact with him. He still sported that red baseball cap. Blossom had outgrown her large bow and now uses a smaller red ribbon to tie up here hair. So I'm surprised Brick is still so attached to that hat. But I guess hats aren't really things you grow out of. His hair was cut shorter and barely showed under the back of his cap. (For the record, hats aren't allowed in school. But no one hassles him about it.)

Butch, with his lazy smirk and ridiculously messy hair, sauntered casually behind his brothers, clearly taking his time to size up the nearby girls. Guys like him disgust me; I can't stand skirt chasers. They don't care at all about the girls they flirt with, and all they're interested in are rushed dates and cheap thrills. Along with things I'd rather not think about.

On Brick's right, with a somewhat bored expression on his face, was Boomer. Unlike Brick, he didn't look particularly scary. And he's not a lech like Butch. But he's still decidedly the dumbest of the three, which makes me wonder what that says about me, him being my counterpart and all.

"Oooh. Here come the residential bad boys," Bell said. If the same words had come from Blossom's mouth, I'm fairly sure there would've been a hint of disgust in her voice and a frown on her face that would reach her eyebrows. But coming from Bell, this was a good thing. _A compliment._

"You really shouldn't think like that," I advised her warily.

"Oh, right. Blossom's forbidden me from flirting, right?"

I giggled. "Well, if it falls under the category of Talking To People We Don't Know, then--"

"But you know them," she pointed out.

"Not in a good way." For some reason, the fact that the Rowdyruff Boys are villains just doesn't register with Bell.

She pouted. "Well, it's not like _I_ have a history with them...which wouldn't be all that bad," she added slyly.

"Bell!"

She laughed, "Chill out! I was kidding. Sort of. But seriously, no one's explained to me just what they did that was so horrible. I don't get why they're considered villains."

True, the boys haven't committed any crimes since they transferred here three months before Bell, but that doesn't 'clean their slates' as Blossom puts it. She's tried to tie their arrival with Bell's, but there's no evidence to back up her theory that they're working together. Nevertheless, they're still villains. They don't have any particular crimes they're known for because they've done _so much_. From petty robberies to attempted murder--'attempted' because we were there to stop them, thank God. And also, because in some cases we were the targets that got away, thank God for that too.

Point blank: They're evil. Like Mojo, or Him, or Sedusa. They just _are_.

"Granted, they're not the nicest guys around, but they _are_ the hottest. That should count for something."

I gaped at her. "Bell! You can't be serious!"

She rose an eyebrow at me. "Oh, c'mon. You and I both know they're hot, regardless of their criminal records."

"I don't think..."

They passed by us just then. Brick didn't pay us the least bit of mind, but Boomer and Butch both turned our way. Boomer gave me a curious look and turned away. Butch, however, made no effort to hide the fact that he was checking us out.

"See something you like?" Bell asked, a flirtatious edge to her voice.

Butch smirked. "Maybe. Think I could get a closer look?"

"In your dreams."

"Every night."

Bell rolled her eyes and turned away, heading in the opposite direction. I followed her quickly, not saying a word until we got to homeroom and settled into our desk just as the bell rang. Bell had a satisfied little grin on her face and I'm sure mine was the picture of shock and disbelief. Blossom was already seated and cast me a questioning glance. She spared Bell an accusing one. I turned around and saw Buttercup seated in the very back, sitting sideways in her chair and talking to Mitch Mitchelson, her best friend.

I took a deep breath before starting. "What was that all about?!" I hiss-whispered.

Bell blinked innocently. "What?"

"That thing with Butch!"

"Just a little harmless flirting."

I groaned, "Don't tell me you _like him_."

"I won't 'cause I don't. If you ask me, Brick's much cuter."

I cocked my head in confusion. "So why flirt with Butch?" Not that flirting with any of them was a good idea.

She shrugged. "'Cause it's fun."

We ended that conversation once Ms. Tanker "The Tank" did roll call. She's publicly known as the strictest teacher in Pokey Oaks High History. Luckily, I only have her for homeroom.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blossom looking our way. She was looking at me, trying to convey some silent message which, of course, I didn't get. But I had a feeling her super-hearing had picked up on most, if not all, of our conversation. Which meant she'd be grilling us on it later. Great.

I glanced over at Bell. She seemed completely at ease, doodling on the edge of her desk. Either she hadn't noticed Blossom's death glares, or she didn't care.

_Or she's hiding it._

I remembered the muffled sobs I heard last night and I knew that was the answer. As much as she laughs, as much as she smiles and jokes and flirts and _tries_...Blossom and Buttercup get to her. No one else may notice, but I see the hurt in her eyes, the forced smiles, the quiet crying at night. I know.

Maybe it's because I'm 'The Sensitive One' that I pick up on these things. But I know a troubled soul when I see one.

Still. She tries to pretend everything is okay though, and I have to marvel a bit at that. I'm not strong or brave enough to hide it when I'm in pain. Even the smallest of things can reduce me to tears. And then Blossom and Buttercup help wipe away the tears.

I looked at Bell again, wishing I could read her thoughts and know what she's really feeling. She's trying to be a sister to us. The least I can do is give her a shoulder to cry on whenever she decides to open up. Blossom and Buttercup may not ever be there for her...

But I will. I'll try to, at least.

* * *

**From Chex: **I wasn't at all sure how to end Bubbles's thoughts, so I apologize for the lack of closure. Something else I'd like to make clear: As far as anatomy goes, the girls and boys are normal teenagers. By "normal" I mean they have fingers and toes, their heads are proportional to their bodies, and their eyes don't take up 90% of their faces. Just thought I should clear that up.


	4. Bell

**From Chex: **"I'm already into the fourth chapter." That's how it feels for me anyway. Some of you may be thinking, "Finally! I didn't think she'd ever get to the fourth chapter!" But either way, chapter four is here.:) This chapter will be in Bell's POV. It may seem like I'm just going in order, but that's not the case. There are specific reasons behind every POV I use. Just keep that in mind. And don't be surprised if I suddenly skip back to Bubbles or something.

* * *

"Where're you headed to now, Bell?"

"Need any help with your books?"

"Do you know where your next class is?"

I tried to smile at the group of over-bearing boys, hoping it didn't look as forced as it felt. You'd think that after two months the novelty of having a new girl around would wear off. But apparently that's not the case. Honestly, I can't believe the guys here are still trying to get by with the lame "Let me show you around" thing as an excuse to talk to me. Anyone who doesn't know their classes after two months must have a serious brain deficiency.

I pushed my way through the door. The bell just rang, ending the Hell that was Social Studies with The Tank. I had barely made it out the door before I was ambushed. The boys were blocking the door, and I could feel the glares coming from my fellow classmates. Well, my female classmates anyway. I think it's safe to say a good percentage of the student male population was surrounding me in a semi-circle.

"I'm headed to Gym next," I said as sweetly as possible. They may be a little annoying, but they come in handy sometimes. Especially if I can get one of them to carry my stuff.

"My class is across the hall from the gym. I can carry your books, if you want," One of them offered. A moderately cute guy with dirty-blond hair. Travis.

"What are you talking about, man?" Another, somewhat shorter blond guy said. Jason. "You're in Health. That's in the opposite direction."

"How are you gonna tell me what class I'm in?" Travis said defensively.

"I don't give a damn what class you're in. But I'm not gonna let you lie to Bell about it," Jason said, taking a step towards him. It's probably really shallow and sadistic of me, but I kind of like watching guys fight over me. As long as it's not in the physical sense.

But for some reason, this wasn't particularly pleasing to watch. Jason, Travis and I have a lot of classes together, so this has gotten to be a regular thing. It's not really entertaining anymore.

Someone tapped on my shoulder. I turned away from Jason and Travis's escalating argument to face Chris, a short, dark-haired kid who's friends with Jason. "I have Gym right now. Since they're acting like idiots, do you want me to carry your books?"

I smiled, "Sure," and we left, unnoticed by Travis and Jason and the other guys, who had stopped bothering me long enough to watch them argue.

Chris walked me as far as the girl's locker room, farther than I thought he would, telling some really lame jokes along the way. I laughed to be polite, but I didn't go out of my way to flirt with him.

I thanked Chris and went into the locker room as quickly as possible, ignoring the death-glares and sneers I was getting as best I could. This was one of the many times I wished Vexy was here. She wouldn't tolerate the looks and whispers from anyone. They'd be thrown through the nearest wall before they even had a chance to blink.

Or at least if Bubbles was here I could pretend I was oblivious the looks by talking to her.

I yanked off my shirt and jeans without hesitation, and the whispers increased. I don't bother trying to hide myself when I change, and the girls clearly mistake my lack of discomfort for haughtiness. It amazes me how jealous the girls here are. Like I can help being pretty.(And thinking that doesn't make me conceited either. It's not like I said I'm drop-dead gorgeous or anything. But if thinking I'm pretty makes me conceited, and not thinking I'm pretty means I have low self-esteem, then what the Hell am I supposed to think?) It's not my fault if all the guys here can see it. And I'm not going to go out of my way to be rude to them just so they'll avoid me.

I know I'm flirty sometimes, but what girl isn't? And when every female in school makes it her responsibility to snub me every chance she gets, including my sisters, what do they expect? Of course I'll talk to the guys then.

That reason aside, it's also pretty fun. Guys aren't nearly as stuck-up as girls are. It's way easier to talk to them sometimes.

"...such a slut."

The words didn't even make me flinch. Typical. That's always the first conclusion they come to, regardless of the fact that I've turned down every guy that's asked me out.

I yanked up my red Gym shorts underneath my white t-shirt and slipped on my sneakers. I quickly pulled my hair up into a high ponytail and left. I didn't waste anytime going into the gym, which was practically empty. The gym's divided into four classes of about 20 people per class. Luckily, I've got the nicest Gym teacher possible. Ms. Poppell is a little old to be a gym teacher, I mean, she's gotta be in her sixties! But she's still the best. And she goes easy on the girls if she knows they've got The Curse That makes her a saint in my book.

Unluckily for me, Buttercup's in my class, which makes team sports extremely suckish. Not only does she make it her business to not pick me for her team no matter what we're playing, but it's like I'm her only target on the other team. Not that I can't take her. But I really don't want to try to. Not in front of the whole class, anyway. So while everyone else is having FUN, I'm the only one dodging fly-balls and avoiding fouls.

Well, me and Butch, anyway since he's 'coincidently' in our class too. From what I heard from Blossom, I suspect the boys got a little more say than most kids when picking their schedules.

I hadn't noticed the gym was nearly full. I sat down, alone, while Ms. Poppell took roll. I didn't look at anyone and tried my best to look as detached as possible. It's one thing to feel lonely. But it's another, extremely embarrassing thing to have people around you _know_ you feel lonely. Especially when a majority of those people hate you.

"Alright! Outside people," Ms. Poppell announced. Every stood and headed out of the gym and to the back doors leading to the field. The back of the school is one big soccer field with a small baseball field past it. We took a seat on the wooden bleachers in front of the field. "OK, people. Soccer's the game! Where are my two captains?"

Buttercup and Butch stepped up and stood in front of us. They're always team captains since Ms. Poppell feels it would be unfair to have both of them on the same team. Like that'd ever happen. I didn't ask what she thought of me and whether or not I was considered 'fair'.

"Mitch," Buttercup called, taking the first pick.

Butch looked directly at me and grinned. "White Hot."

I rolled my eyes. "Should I assume you're talking to me?"

"Who else? Now, get your sexy little behind over here."

"Yes, sir," I said, fighting off a small smile. Ms. Poppell is really the only teacher who lets kids get away with talking like that(another reason why she's awesome). If it were The Tank, she'd probably suspend him(assuming she could) for using words like 'sexy'.

Or wash his mouth out with soup or something. Whatever they did in the 1800s.

I went and stood behind Butch, avoiding eye contact with Buttercup, who was seething. The rest of the names were called and I tuned out after a minute.

"Luke."

"Carrie."

"Andy."

"Jen."

"Steve."

"Logan."

"Morgan."

Blah blah blah. Names were called. People moved. Buttercup glared and Butch menacingly and vice versa. Buttercup glared at ME menacingly, and I looked away. People spread out around the field. I went to take a random spot in the outfield when Butch stopped me.

"Sorry, Hotness. I need you as my goalie," he said, leading me towards the goal and shoving poor Logan out of the way.

"Why me?"

"'Cuz," he offered as an explanation. I crossed my arms across my chest and stared expectantly at him. "Look, just stand there, look cute, and block anything that comes your way. This should be an easy win."

"Not if Buttercup has anything to say about it," I muttered.

"I'll take care of her." He winked at me and went to take his position. I groaned. I had absolutely no intention of jumping and diving for balls and looking like a fool in the process of getting dirty. Not that I'd have to move much to catch anything from anyone other than Buttercup. But then again...

Who, other than Buttercup, would be able to get past Butch anyway?

The game started before I even realized it. Butch had the ball, which didn't surprise me in the least. I don't know much about soccer, other than the fact that you're supposed to kick a ball into a net without using your hands, but it looked like he was doing good. Buttercup was directly on him that angrily determined look on her face. Butch did something fancy with his feet that made Buttercup mad, kicked, and the ball went whizzing just past the head of the poor girl in the goalpost.

It's then that I realized what Butch meant by an 'easy win'. As long as he could get the ball past Buttercup, no one else could stop him. The only person with even a chance of blocking his kicks was Buttercup herself, but she couldn't play goalie because someone had to be scoring points. And with me as goalie, assuming I was playing my best, she couldn't do that either, even if she managed to get around Butch.

Oh, he's good. He definitely doesn't look like much of a planner, that's Brick job, I think, but I guess it's different with sports because he definitely has a winning game plan.

But again, that's assuming I play my best. Which I won't.

Mitch shot past Butch with the ball, and I think Butch let him, just to toy with Buttercup. Mitch is the second best player on Buttercup's team, so once he got past Butch he managed to dribble down towards me without much difficulty. A few unsuccessful players tried to intercept him with no luck. He took aim at me and kicked.

Using my super-speed, which I know isn't fair but it's easier and more fun, I flitted to the left and caught the ball with ease.

I tossed it back and caught sight of Butch grinning devilishly at me. I realized the reason he let Mitch pass was because he wanted to see what I would do. Which means now he thinks I'm gonna help him win this.

As if. Like Buttercup needs another reason to hate me.

After that, no one but Buttercup got past Butch. Her shots were much harder to block. Which is why I didn't. It gave her a chance to get a lead on us, and I could tell Butch was getting irritated with me.

"What are you doing, Bell?" he asked angrily after I failed to block the last shot. So _now_ he calls me by my name.

I shrugged, feigning innocence. I'm very good at that.

Buttercup laughed harshly, "Way to put everything on the pansy, Butch. Like she's gonna break a nail trying to block anything." She sneered at me as she said this.

Unbelievable. That's exactly what she is. Her I am, _letting her win_, and she thinks it's because I'm to prissy to play?!(Which she isn't completely wrong about, but still!)

I glared hard at her and she blinked before returning the look. She rejoined her team.

And then the game _really_ started.

From that point on, nothing got past me. To say the game got intense would be the world's biggest understatement. I've only known Buttercup for a few months, but I've never seen her look so vehement. Not even during training. She and Butch were battling it out and it seemed as though she abandoned strategy for force. Every kick blew up dust and sent the ball flying faster than most people can blink. It took me awhile to notice that it was just Butch, Buttercup, and I playing. Everyone else had backed up a safe distance and was watching from the sidelines as Buttercup attempted to murder me with every shot.

Ms. Poppell blew a double whistle, which, in any game, meant we only had seconds left.

Butch was up by, like, one point. There was no way Buttercup would win. The least she could do was tie things up and, knowing her, that wouldn't be satisfactory. Buttercup was furious and I knew I'd pay for all of this later; even if, technically, I was only participating to the best of my ability. I mean, isn't that what you're supposed to do in Gym?

I didn't have time to consider this because something was coming my way. Fast.

Buttercup had shot another one, sending up so much dirt and dust it was hard to see beyond a few feet. But that was enough to give me a heads up on what was coming. That, and the sonic boom.

The ball was speeding towards me faster than a bullet. At _me_. Not at the net behind me where the ball is supposed to go in order to score. But at **me**. Or more specifically, my face.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several people wince, anticipating that I had been hit. Even with my super-speed, there was no time to get out of the way. So I did the only thing I could do...

I caught it.

The ball, red hot from the friction, stung as it slapped against my hands and I fought the urge the throw it down and blow on them. A moment of silence passed as the dust cleared. Butch, the first to realize what happened, pumped a fist in the air and cheered.

"In your face, bitch!" Butch laughed, the only person who didn't seem to be on 'Pause'.

I stood there, wordlessly holding that ball in front of me. Watching, while Buttercup stormed off the field, pushing anyone too dumb to move out of her way. No one tried to stop her as she threw open the back door, nearly tearing it off it's hinges, and went back inside.

Before I had time to respond, I was lifted off my feet.

"You are awesome! You're a freakin' goddess!" Butch shouted, lifting me up like a toddler.

"B-Butch..."

"I was worried for a sec, but you were great! You were just psychin' her out, weren't ya? Letting her catch up to us."

"Butch--"

"And did you see her face?! Serves the little lesbo right! I--"

"BUTCH!! Put me down, dammit!" I yelled, squirming and kicking until he set me back on my feet.

He looked at me like I was crazy. "What the hell is your problem? We won."

"No shit. It's not that big of a deal. It's just a dumbass game." I said, glaring at him. I stormed off in the direction Buttercup had gone. Not that I had any intention of following her, but there were only so many places I could go.

I went inside, a mixture of despair, anger, and helplessness, and noted that the door didn't close quite right behind me.

Going into the locker room, I hadn't thought that that was the most likely place Buttercup had gone, so I wasn't quite prepared to defend myself when I entered and saw her stripping out of her Gym uniform. She looked up curiously and then glared.

"Don't tell me you came in here to _apologize_ again," she growled.

I stiffened. "No. I just came for my stuff. I have nothing to apologize for." My voice came out stronger than I could've hoped for, so I tried to relax a bit as I went to my locker and started pulling my clothes out. The faster I could get dressed the sooner I could get out of here and away from her. We don't have anymore classes together.

She scoffed, "Yeah, I guess you got a kick outta that, huh?"

"No, actually. I didn't."

"I bet."

I didn't answer, and she ignored me, which I was grateful for. It was kind of hard to argue when you're not fully dressed.

"What was that about back there?" she asked, the calmness in her voice making her sound that much more intimidating.

"What?"

"For the first half of the game," she looked at me, trying to catch my gaze. I wouldn't let her. "What did I tell you about going easy on me?"

"What makes you think it had anything to do with you? Maybe I'm just not a huge soccer fan--"

"Oh, don't give me that crap! We both know that's a load of bull! You were _letting me win_," she said, venom dripping from the words like I had committed some unthinkable sin. "Was that your plan from the beginning?! Were you just trying to make it more interesting so you and your dickheaded boyfriend could laugh about it later?!"

"Shut-up!" I screamed, catching her slightly off-guard. I was too riled up to deny the boyfriend-comment. "Yes, I was trying to let you win! But, _so what_? Would it really have been that much better if Butch and I had murdered you like he wanted?! Would that have made you feel better?!" I demanded, relishing the slighting shocked look that crossed her face when I started yelling. I was fully dressed now, which made arguing that much easier.

"...So sure of yourself."

I couldn't help it. I snorted, "Oh, get off it! You wouldn't have stood a chance, and we both know it.

"That's not the point! It's not a win if its given away! I can't stand people who do that!" she yelled, her green eyes flashing. "And what makes you think I need your mercy anyway?! That's what that was, right? You were taking _pity_ on me or something? You were so damn sure you had that game locked up that you felt _sorry for me_?!"

"No. I just know what a sore loser you are," I said. "You can't stand the thought of someone being better than you." I grabbed my books and turned on my heel to leave, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back, making me stumble slightly.

"Are you saying you think you are," she snarled, her grip temporarily cutting off my blood-flow.

I snatched my arm away and immediately regretted the next words out of my mouth. "You haven't proven me wrong yet."

Without waiting for her reaction, I stormed out, preparing to spend the next ten minutes before lunch waiting in the bathroom or something. **Anywhere** would be better than here.

--

The day passed by in a blur. Before I knew it, I was at my locker, packing up my things and waiting for Bubbles to show up. If anyone had asked me what happened today in any of my classes, I wouldn't have been able to tell them. I couldn't recall anything after my shouting match in the locker room and the memory left a dull, guilty ache in my chest.

"Hey, Sexy," a familiar, yet irritating voice whispered in my ear. "Feeling better yet?"

"What the Hell do you care?"

He chuckled, his expression nothing short of amusement, "So damn moody. Is it that time of the month or somethin'?" He ran a hand through my hair and it took everything I had not to rip his arm off. I was surprised at how quickly I'd tired of flirting with him. But that fight with Buttercup left a bad taste in my mouth and I couldn't help wanting to blame someone other than myself for it.

"Fuck off. I'm not in the mood."

"That's the first time a girl's ever said that to me." I felt a sharp tug at my hair and whirled around to glare at him.

"I mean it. Get out of here."

He pulled away and shoved his hands in his pockets, smirking. "Whatever you say." He gave me one last lingering glance, his eyes roving over my body as if he wanted to do something and was weighing his options. But he clearly thought better of it and left. Smart choice.

I watched him walk lazily down the hall, his hands still shoved in his pocket and that stupid smirk still on his face as if our little interaction had left him feeling accomplished. It pissed me off.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" A chirpy voice asked, making me jump slightly. I shook my head and turned away. Bubbles looked over my shoulder at Butch, who had just pushed his way out the door. From the sound of her sighing, I figured she'd put two and two together. That, and the fact that Buttercup losing at any kind of sport is nothing less than front-page news-worthy. It's amazing how fast gossip travels and Bubbles usually hovers near that central hub.

She looked at me with knowing eyes. Bubbles, obviously, has been the most supportive of the girls as far as my joining is concerned. She never points fingers or jumps at the chance to call me out. She's always filled with nothing but sympathy and encouraging words whenever something goes wrong or Blossom or Buttercup goes off. She's always just _there_. And I'm so grateful for it. Because without her, I'm sure I would've left weeks ago.

So I was surprised that the first thing she had to say to this was:

"I told you no good would ever come of flirting with Butch Jojo."

* * *

**From Chex:** I'm finally done. For some reason this chapter took longer to type, and, I have to admit, I don't feel as good about it. I think that's mostly because Bell doesn't really have a set personality for me to build off of. I kind of have to make one for her. So I'd really appreciate some feedback. Review!


	5. Butch

**From Chex:** Butch's POV. **This particular chapter is rated 'M' because Butch is, well, profane.**

* * *

Too damn easy.

Seriously, if there was an assignment labeled 'So Fucking Easy You'd Hafta Be a Complete Dipshit to Screw it Up', this would've been it.

I pushed open the double doors and, hitting some idiot in the face in the process. He got up and looked like he was about to beat the shit out of something. "You--!"

I grinned at him, daring him to finish that sentence. "Yeah?" His eyes widened and he shook his head, getting as far away from me as possible. Coward.

A quick look around told me they weren't here yet. I went down the steps and leaned against the wall, trying to figure out how to kill some time. Where the hell are they? I'm never early for anything. Especially a mission. In fact, I'm expected to be late. What the hell's it gonna look like if I'm the first one here?

I saw some goth freaks hanging around side entrance, smoking what looked like weed. Probably cheap crap, but it's something to keep you busy. I would've jacked 'em for it(I got my own, but why waste it when I can have theirs?), but something grabbed my arm.

"Hey, Butch," Something purred. Something in in 6-inch heels that still didn't reach my shoulder.

I don't do pixies. "Hey." I was still looking at her shoes, but her hand didn't move from my arm. My eyes went from her legs, which were short and not all that impressive, to her thighs, exposed by a micro-mini, to her chest, where they stopped. The bitch was like, a 34C in a low cut tank top. At least.

"Ya know, I was wondering if you could do something for me."

"I could do _a lot_ of things for you, honey." I take back what I said. I don't _usually_ do pixies. But I might make an exception for this one.

She giggled, turning around slightly to wink at two other girls who were obviously watching us. One was a leggy blonde who I think I'd rather be talking to. "Well, my parents are going out tonight and I'm gonna be left in the house a_ll alone_," she added a little whine to that. "Maybe you could come by and, ya know, keep me company."

"Hmm..." Straightforward. Interesting...

"I'm sure he'd love to, but unfortunately Butch won't be available then," Brick said from over my shoulder. I turned to glare at him. If there's anything I hate about him its his stupid timing.

Pixie girl frowned. "Oh. Too bad. Maybe another time. Later Butch." She sashayed back over to her friends.

"What the hell was that for?!" I demanded.

Brick rolled his eyes, not even pretending to care. "If you'll recall, we have something to do today. And you were supposed to meet us around back." I looked over his shoulder when he said 'us' and saw Boomer staring into the distance. Idiot. I swear, I can't be related to that moron. Who the fuck stares at **nothing** all day?! Especially when their are hot chicks around that need fucking, crap that needs stealing, and pot that needs smoking. _Who?_

Boomer, apparently.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Brick said, slapping me upside the head.

"I was thinking!"

"Yeah, right," he scoffed. "Better not be about that little slut that just left because you're not going after her."

"Who the fuck are you? My keeper?"

"Yours and Boomer's." He lifted up into the air, getting ready to take off. "C'mon. We've got work to do. And get Brainless."

As much as he tells me to do that, _I'm_ the one who's really the idiot's keeper. I punched Boomer in the arm. He grabbed his arm and blinked at me like he'd never seen me before in his life. "What the hell was that for?" I rolled my eyes, feeling like Brick for a minute.

"We're leaving, stupid." Brick took off and we followed, Boomer still griping like the little pussy he is.

"I don't see why you couldn't have just said that," he muttered.

"I don't see why you can't just pay attention for once in your damn life."

"Like you can pay attention to anything without tits."

Brick said, "I have an idea. How 'bout we agree that you're both _idiots_ who can't pay attention to anything that's actually _worth_ attention, and **shut the hell up**!" A minute passed and no one said anything. Brick's not usually loud, but he's so damn irritable.

"So are you saying a girl's tits ain't worth attention?" I asked. High and mighty bastard knows he's as horny as the rest of us. He pretends he doesn't care about anything and no girl is worth two seconds of his attention, but I bet he's got magazines stashed somewhere.

He groaned, "Not _every_ girl's tits, no."

"But some are."

"Some."

"So, like, C and up, right?"

"Butch," he said in his _I'm fed up with_ _this_ tone.

I shrugged. "Just sayin'." We stopped in front of Mojo's layer. Brick pushed open one of the roof windows and we dropped inside. Doors are for powerless sissies. Boomer headed to the kitchen and I reintroduced my ass to the couch. Maybe it's not so bad that Brick took me away from Pixie. My ass hasn't had quality couch time in awhile. Before I could turn on the TV and begin the all-important bonding ritual, Brick snatched the remote. "What now?"

"You know 'what'. Did you complete your assignment?"

I smirked, "What do you think?"

He sighed and rubbed his temples. "I told you yesterday how important this was! How the hell you screw up something so simple, I will never--"

"What? I didn't screw up!" I reached into my pocket and pulled out a long white hair. Bell's long white hair. Brick took it an examined it like there was actually something to see. It's just a hair. Seriously, how hard did he think it was gonna be to get _one hair_?

"Hmm. I see. Well, for once you actually did something right. Maybe you're not _completely_incompetent. Maybe," he said and dropped the remote on my lap. Then he went off to find Mojo or Him to work on The Plan, or do something equally important and leaderish. Or to take out his magazines...

"Who's not completely incompetent?" Boomer asked. He came and sat himself down on the opposite side of the couch. I would've kicked his ass off my couch if he didn't have two arms full of chips and a six-pack of Coors Light.

"Me," I said, snatching a bag of BBQ chips and ripping it open. I shoved a handful in my mouth. "Mm mmd ma mwob wite."

"Dude, swallow."

While I chewed, I flicked the TV on and started flipping through the crappy infomercials. "I did my job right, so now Brick doesn't think I'm a total screw-up."

"You got one of Bell's hairs?"

"Yeah. How hard did you think it was gonna be? Only a fuckwit wouldn't've been able to do it. Which is why we didn't give you the job."

"Screw you." He threw one of the beers at my head and I caught it, popping it open and taking a long swig.

"Didn't know you were like that."

"Whatever, man. You know Brick gave you the job 'cause Bell's one of your Dailies." Dailies are girls that get some of my attention every single day for whatever reason. Lucky bitches.

"So? You and I both know Bell's the hottest piece of ass in that school." Legs that go one for miles, slim and curvy, a nice ass, and she's gotta be at least a 36D. A pretty face too. That's my kind of girl. What straight guy with balls wouldn't want a piece of that?

"Speak for yourself, dude. I've seen hotter." I almost choked on my chips. "Do you even know how to chew in swallow?" My head snapped around to him and my jaw nearly hit the floor. "What?"

"You...You've seen _hotter_?! Who?! Where?!"

"Forget it, man."

I muted the TV and turned around to face him fully. "Like hell I will! 'You've seen hotter'? Where the hell've you been? A nude beach? Strip joint? Where ever the hell it is, why the fuck didn't you take me with you?!"

"Chill out! I didn't mean it like that. I just meant she ain't all that." He reached for the remote and I held it away from him.

"Dude, are you _blind_? She's all that and _then_ some."

"Whatever."

"Are you saying she's not hot?"

"She's hot, but--"

"Name one girl who's hotter."

He groaned and threw up his hands. "Christ! Forget I said anything!"

I looked at him for a long time. Then I turned around and shook my head, laughing. "Ya know, I always _knew_ somethin' was wrong with you. I _knew_ it. And now I know what it is. You've got a problem with girls."

"I do not!"

"Oh, yeah. You're right. You just have suckish taste in girls."

"To hell and back with you. My taste in girls is fine," he said, huffing like the little wuss he is. Like someone cares if he's mad. And I don't consider his taste in girls 'fine' since he hasn't been on one date since we transferred to Pokey Oaks High. And its not even from lack of availability. The girls have been all over us since our first day, not that I can blame them. But Boomer's got serious issues if he's not interested in _any_ girl at all. Especially Bell.

"Not if you actually think Bell's missing something. I mean, what other than a G-string could make her look any hotter than she already does?"

Now that I think about it, Brick's been the same way. But he's never interested in _anything_. Probably doesn't think any of the girls are good enough for him. He never has time for the "dumb bimbos". I'm starting to suspect that he and Boomer might be on the rainbow side. No solid proof yet though.

"You are sick and twisted."

"Who's sick and twisted?" Brick asked, coming into the room and snatching a bag of chips off the coffee table. "Where the hell are Mojo and Him?" Mojo and Him have banded together for the very first time and we're directly in the middle of it. They've been arguing nonstop on some plan Mojo's come up with. They won't give us the details on it, but basically it involves us being on 'our best behaviour', whatever that is. In fact, I'm surprised we didn't here them screaming at each other the minute we got here.

"Beats me," Boomer shrugged and jerked his thumb in my direction. "Butch's the sick and twisted one."

"And you just now figured this out?" Brick sat himself down on the MY couch beside Boomer. I don't know who the hell told them I was sharing, but they lied. Boomer's just lucky he brought food.

I said to Brick, "Pansy Boy doesn't think Bell's the sexiest thing in this town."

"So?"

_What the fuck is wrong with my brothers?!_

"He says he's seen hotter!"

"So have I."

I looked between Brick, who looked bored as hell, like always, and Boomer who looked way too satisfied with himself. "Have you two been goin' to Hooters without me or somethin'?!" Brick just rolled his eyes like he was too good to answer.

Boomer sighed, "Face it, dude. I'm right on this one. Besides, she's just another Puff. Being hot is sort of a requirement, right? Nothin' special."

See? There's a reason Boomers called The Dumb One. When he goes around sayin' stupid shit like that its a given. I get that the Puffs are like The It Girls or something, but they're not all hot. In fact, Bell is the only hot one. Blossom is a nerdy bitch, no matter how great her hair looks. Bubbles, I'll admit, is cute. But there's a huge difference between cute and hot. Maybe with bigger boobs and a shorter skirt...maybe. And don't even get me started on Butterbitch. Seriously, the word _hot_should never be applied to a dyke like her. A temper-mental bitch in boxers does NOT a hot girl make. Not even a moderately good-looking girl. If hotness were a requirement, she shoulda been kicked off that team years ago.

But explaining this to Boomer would be like trying to negotiate with a cement wall. Waste of effort.

So I just settled for: "Forget you two."

Brick groaned and rubbed his temples. "Would you shut-up? I swear to God, I'm loosing brain cells just listening to you two. And why is the TV on mute?"

"I'll shut-up when you two admit I'm right," I said in response to his shittiness.

Brick looked hard at me. "I don't have to admit anything. Now turn the damn volume back on."

I tossed the remote at him. "So shouldn't we be doing something important? Ya know, since you ruined my plans for tonight."

"I can't find the monkey or the fag."

"So now what?"

"Now we wait. And who told you idiots to get beer?" He asked, glaring at our cans. "I thought I told you no drinking."

I rolled my eyes and chugged down the rest of my beer just for the hell of it. It's not like they're gonna need us for anything anyway. They're not even here. And who knows how long this is going to take them anyway. They can't agree on a damn thing. This could take hours. I told Brick this.

"We don't know that. If--"

"_**That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard!**_" Him's demonic voice rang out as he threw open the door. Mojo came in right behind him.

"It's _essential_! This will never work unless we duplicate my actions precisely! And by precisely duplicating my actions, we'll get our desired result!"

"_**I'm telling you, there are better, more effective ways to**_--_There are my lovely boys!" _Him's voice turned sickly sweet and lilting. "_I take it your mission was successful?_"

"Of course," Brick answered. Really. How hard did they think it was gonna be?

"_Excellent! Now we can--"_

"Go to the Townsville jail to put my plan into action!" Mojo finished.

"_**No! No! NO! We can perform the experiment right here! It'll be easier to monitor,"**_ Him argued, his voice changing back to deep and threatening. Now this is exactly what I was talking about. Ever since those two decided to ban together, they can't agree on anything. I'm surprised they haven't tried to kill each other in their sleep or something. But apparently the latest plan is "too perfect to risk jeopardizing" so they try to tolerate each other. But it still takes days for them to reach an agreement about anything.

Mojo groaned and started pacing. "Well then, at least allow me to get the proper ingredients. We can't afford to take any shortcuts with--"

"'**Shortcuts?!' Using actual Chemical-X can only enhance the formula! Toilet water was a shortcut!**"

"It served it's purpose! And the boys turned out just fine--"

"**This one could be BETTER!**"

"The original formula is the best!"

"**But** **we can take more precautions! We'll know precisely what we're dealing with--**"

"I knew what I was dealing with when I created the boys--"

"**You could only have guessed--**"

So my brothers and I sat there while Him and Mojo argued about whether or not our creation was a success and how we turned out. I could tell all of this was pissing Brick off. He hates sitting back while other people take action and dictate situations. Backing off is a complete chore for him. I bet he'd just love to throw in his two cents and put this plan into motion, but part of us being on our best behaviour requires him to not do that. And he agreed that this plan is "practically flawless if executed correctly". And to do that we all have to be on the same page.

I ripped open another bag of chips and kicked my feet up.

This is gonna be a _long_ night.

* * *

**From Chex:**I feel the need to apologize for this chapter. I'm not sure why. This didn't turn out quite how I planned and I'm not sure about Butch's personality. But I've officially labeled him as the pervert. And this chapter is shorter than the others. So forgive me.

(This chapter has been edited-8/7/09)


	6. Blossom 2

**From Chex:**Chapter 6 and we're back to Blossom's POV. Sorry for those of you who were expecting/hoping for Boomer's or Brick's. I'll get to them in due time.

* * *

I am getting so sick of all the tension.

Silently, I set my large cooking pot on the kitchen table in front of my brooding family of four and served each plate. It had been my turn to cook so I served spaghetti with meatballs (Parmesan cheese instead for Bubbles since she's a vegetarian). No one said a word as I went around the table, piling each plate with noodles before finally serving myself and sitting down in between the Professor and Buttercup.

For awhile we ate in an uncomfortable silence. The minutes ticked by painfully slow, further putting things on edge. I had the strange and slightly ridiculous feeling that something was about to explode. Then again, here in Townsville, that isn't exactly uncommon.

Murderous vibes were coming off of Buttercup in waves. I immediately pegged this as her prolonged reaction to losing her soccer game. (Even the most insignificant news travels quickly at Pokey Oaks.) She tends to get extremely emotional in all senses when it comes to sports, though I have yet to see her cry over one. But most of her emotions quickly convert to anger. That's just Buttercup's way.

Her burning green eyes stayed locked on Bell.

Bell was expertly ignoring her, picking at her food in an almost resolute silence. The gist of what I heard is that not only did Bell and Butch beat Buttercup's team, but they're also dating. Not that I engage in or believe gossip like that, but Bell has shown some interest in him, from what I've seen.

Another thing I need to discuss with her.

And I can see why that would put Buttercup in her worst possible mood. Buttercup detests Butch about as much as Bubbles loves shopping, which, needless to say, is alot. Her absolute least favorite people getting together and beating her at one of her favorite sports? Wow.

"So," the Professor cleared his throat awkwardly, "how was school today?"

Bubbles immediately took the bait and launched into a detailed description of her latest cheer-routine. The Professor relaxed slightly, nodding a little too animatedly during her explanation. Bubbles too was speaking in a nervous, high-pitched voice.(More so than usual, I mean.)

"Our next game is in a week! I mean, its not fair for Amy to throw this at us last-minute," Bubbles vented. Somehow I knew Bubbles hadn't expressed any of this to Amy since that's just not like her.

"Oh, I'm sure you can master it in no time," the Professor encouraged.

"Oh yeah, I've already got it down. It's not me I'm worried about though. Rachel told me she can't get past the fifth step and she's afraid Amy's going to kick her off the team."

"Well, did you talk to Amy?"

"Oh, of course not! She's captain. She has the right to assign new routines whenever she wants. It's not my place...but I am helping Rachel tomorrow after school."

I tuned out momentarily. It's not that I didn't care about what Bubbles has to say, not at all. But I was mentally going over what I'd have to say to Bell after dinner. Obviously since me and the Professor don't share the same views on the matter, I can't impose any new rules now. I feel like I'm doing something underhanded by not letting him know about the guidelines I've laid down for Bell, but he wouldn't understand. It's all for our safety. Our family's and the town's.

A while ago I toyed with the assumption of Bell having an alliance with the Rowdyruff Boys, but I never had any solid evidence. Other than mindless flirting, it doesn't seem like she had anything to do with the boys outside of school.

But _dating_. That's admittedly not something I thought I'd have to go over. I had always assumed Puffs and Ruffs harbored a natural dislike for each other. I figured there was no getting around that. Brick is easily my least favorite person on the planet. His superior attitude is completely infuriating. I've never known anyone able to anger me beyond rational thought until I met him. Every time he looks at me with those flame-red eyes it makes my skin crawl. He's in every one of my classes. He challenges me every chance he gets like he's trying to prove to everyone that I'm not as smart as I appear. That he's smarter! Please.

Buttercup, on occasion, has needed to be physically restrained from a fight with Butch. I refuse to allow her to make a scene, regardless of how justified her actions. Why? Because that's exactly what he wants and Buttercup will hate herself afterwards if she walks into that trap. Time has calmed her to the point that she can pass by him with a glare and nothing more. But if you see the way she looks at him, its more than obvious that she would love nothing more than to videotape herself brutally murdering him so she can rewind and watch the tape over and over and over again.

Bubbles's polite and cheerful disposition has made it difficult to see any resentment she has for Boomer. Still, she doesn't like him even if the only justification she has for that is fear. But that fact alone says something in itself since Bubbles generally likes everyone.

Bell...is a new case. Even if its completely superficial, the idea of her having some kind of interest in any of them to the point of dating is completely unacceptable. And inconceivable. Far be it from me to criticize their looks, according to a vast majority of Pokey Oaks High girls. But I hadn't expected Bell to buy into that. Of all the guys clamoring to get her attention, she chooses Butch? Is that unlike her? I can't say. I don't exactly know her very well. (But if she really likes that lecherous pig I think its safe to say her taste in men is lacking.)

Either way, its out of the question.

"So how was your day, Bell?" I tuned back in again and glanced at Bell out of the corner of my eye.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I've had better."

Buttercup scoffed, commanding everyone's attention.

"Um, so I take it it was a bad day?" The Professor pulled at his collar nervously. I could tell he was preparing to push away his half eaten dinner and hide out in the lab. Not that I blamed him. Moody, super-powered teenage girls are quite dangerous to be around at times. Especially Buttercup since her most frequent mood is blind fury.

Buttercup locked eyes with Bell. Her emerald-green eyes flashed dangerously and I saw her muscles tense as if she were about to pounce across the the table and claw Bell's skin off. "It sucked." She spat, silencing everyone for a minute.

Bell met her eyes with a steady look that was bordering on a glare. "It wasn't the end of the world. I'm sure we'll all live." You could practically see lightning spark between them. I was perfectly prepared to step in if necessary. Fighting outside the STR isn't allowed and usually results in the breaking of precious family heirlooms among other casualties.

_**Beep!**_

_**Beep!**_

_**Beep!**_

My cell phone went off in the classic alarm that signaled an emergency. My usual ringtone is a basic polyphonic, but this one resounded with the familiar sound of The Hotline, which, over the years, became inconvenient. After realizing that we tend to be in places between home and school where a cordless phone isn't available, the Professor was able to connect the mayor's hotline to my cell phone, as well as the other girls, depending on which button he pressed. If for some reason I wasn't available or we weren't all together, there's an extension that connects all our phones.

"Yes, Mayor?"

"Blossom!" his frantic and somewhat bumbling voice yelled in my ear. I held the phone away slightly. "There's been a break-in at the Townsville Correctional Facility!"

A break-_in_ at the jail? "Don't you mean a break-_out_, Mayor?"

"No!"

I briefly considered trying to correct him again, but there wasn't time. Break-in or out, there's a criminal on the loose. And the Mayor had already hung up.

"Girls, we have a break-in at the prison," I announced.

Bubbles blinked at me. "A break-_in_? Why would someone want to break into a jail?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

--

We arrived at a crime scene completely devoid of suspects. Police cars and cops circled the prison as well as a few curious bystanders and a news crew who stood a safe distance back. Everyone made way for us and I immediately went to the point of interest: A large gaping hole in the wall, clearly caused by some explosion. It covered the entire back wall of an empty cell that, I hoped, had been empty to begin with. A thick layer of ash covered the walls around it. The air smelled of smoke and some unidentifiable chemical. Inside the cell, a fountain of brown liquid was shooting up from a pipe where a toilet must've been.

Buttercup tapped my shoulder. "From what I just heard, this was a cut and run situation. A guard heard the explosion and this is what they found. Whoever did it ran out fast. The cell was empty before."

I nodded and went to speak with the closest officer. Actually, he looked more like a detective. He had on a brown suede jacket, despite the heat, on top of a white button-up shirt. He was scribbling furiously on a yellow note-pad.

"Do you have any suspects or witnesses?" I asked.

He grumbled something and finished scribbling before he turned to face me. "We spoke to some people who claimed to have saw the culprit. Apparently, he was short, kind of stocky fellow dressed in a all black. Cape and turban."

"Cape and turban?"

He nodded, glancing at the news crew from Channel 12. They were trying desperately to push through the ring of cops to get to us. "It was definitely an outside job."

I took this in and went back over to the assess the damage. Bell and Bubbles looked like they were talking to some of the bystanders. I couldn't see Buttercup.

The hole was rimmed with a dark smudged ring like melted candle-wax. I touched it. Still a little warm. And it had smelled more strongly of that same chemical. This was the work of your standard acid ray-gun.

"Mojo," I whispered. _Turban + Cape + Ray-Gun = Mojo Jojo _It all fit together perfectly. Mojo's always been terrible at covering his tracks. The only thing that was missing was a motive. Why break _into_ a prison? No criminals were released. No one was hurt. So what was the purpose of all this? To cause a scene? Damage town property? Get us down here to initiate a larger plan? The last idea seemed more likely.

I found Buttercup talking to one of the officers. I pulled her away. "Keep an eye out," I said in a hushed voice. "This is Mojo's work. The crime itself is pretty pointless, but its probably part of something bigger. An ambush maybe. A ploy to get us down here. So keep your guard up."

She nodded and went to go spread my warning to Bubbles and Bell. Bell looked from Buttercup to me and came over. "Some people say they saw him leave with the toilet. Any relevance?"

None that I could think of. I shook my head. "Not really."

I smoothed my hands over my white shorts and straightened my red tank top, preparing to face the reporters who were bound to break through any second now. The girls joined me just as the first one got through--a woman in a sky-blue power suit.

"Girls, girls! Do you have any idea who might be behind this?"

The first question is always predictable.

"Yes, from the looks of it, this is the work of Mojo Jojo." A collective gasp went around. I really don't see why that should surprise anyone.

"But why?" This came from a different reporter. Or maybe a journalist. Its hard to tell sometimes. Especially with all the lights and cameras flashing. "Why would Mojo Jojo want to break into the local prison?"

Buttercup cut in, "The monkey's going senile. I don't think he knows what he's doing anymore, if he ever did." The cameras panned in on her as she continued to talk about Mojo's deteriorating mental state.

Of course this was all a cover. No need to frighten the town's people when we weren't entirely sure if there was a bigger plan in progress. No need to let them know that we weren't sure either. We keep important details within our circle and the police, depending on the situation. Sometimes we don't even tell them.

"Do you girls plan to go after him?"

Buttercup rolled her eyes, still working the crowd. "Please. He stole a toilet, people. It's not exactly a national emergency." I gave her a sharp look that I hoped no one else caught. Buttercup has never been the most courteous with the paparazzi and such, and I don't really expect her to be polite, but the sarcasm wasn't exactly called-for.

With that closing statement made, all cameras and reporters turned to Bell.

"Bell! Can you give us _your_ take on the case?"

"Bell, is it true you've been overseas as a part of a Powerpuff International Exchange program until now?"

"What's your new life like now that you're reunited with your sisters?"

This has been the usual protocol since Bell arrived. Since camera crews are not allowed on school grounds or within three blocks of our home (we had the mayor agree not to issue out any warrants), they use any crime as an excuse to get a glimpse of Bell. But she's forbidden to talk to any reporters.

"C'mon girls," I said, helping block Bell from the view of the cameras while we took off. Once we were a safe distance away I slowed down and my sisters followed suit. Private conversations are best had while flying. It makes eavesdropping impossible.

"Blossom," Bubbles began tentatively. "I really think you should reconsider the No Reporters rule. We haven't given any explanation for where Bell's come from or why she's here. Once people see they're not getting any info from us, they'll come up with their own stories. True or not. And that could be bad for our reputation."

She had a point. Sooner or later we're going to have to give them something or people will start feeding off the tabloids. "I'll think about it. Speaking of rumors," I turned to Bell and she gave me a skeptical look. "I've heard some things going on about you and Butch."

"I thought you didn't believe anything classified as a rumor."

I glared at her. Smart-aleck remarks will get her nowhere fast. "I don't. But I've heard you say some things we need to discuss. Unless, of course, what you say isn't true."

She glared back at me. "So what do you wanna discuss?"

"This you and Butch thing--"

"There is no 'me and Butch thing'," she cut me off sharply. "We're **not** going out."

"Not what I heard," Buttercup said.

Bell turned her glare on Buttercup and raised her voice slightly. "What do you care anyway? For him to be someone you hate, you seem awfully concerned about his dating status."

"I _don't_ care! You two deserve each other. The King and Queen of jackasses can do whatever they want together," she snapped, in her upscale threatening voice. This is not where I was directing the conversation. And this is the kind of tension I'm talking about. It adds unnecessary stress to the situation.

"Hey!" I shot Buttercup a warning look before Bell could lay into her. "I don't care about the rumors. All I'm saying is that I want you to know that you're forbidden to pursue a relationship with any of the Rowdyruff Boys. Alright?"

"Like I'd ever," she grumbled, tossing her hair. Then, from the look on her face, something seemed to dawn on her. "Wait. So that means Brick too?"

Now that stopped me mid-flight. Honestly. The girls flew slightly past me then waited for me to catch up. "O-Of course that includes Brick. Why would it not? Why would you _want_ to?" That condescending, rude, obnoxious, patronizing jerk. What on Earth would make a girl fall for that, I don't know. But Bell's taste in guys just went from bad to worse.

She shrugged. "He's hot."

_And you're mental_, I thought briefly. I don't see anything 'hot' about a guy with an ego larger than a third-world country.

We landed on our yard in front of the mailbox. Buttercup practically ran inside. As far as I know, she's hanging out with Mitch and their punk friends later. I don't trust Mitch in the least, but as long as she's back by curfew I guess there's no problem.

Bubbles skipped in after her. "C'mon!" Me and Bell hung back a bit. Not looking at each other, but it seemed like she wanted to say something. I did too. I'm just not sure what.

"Hey, Blossom..."

"Yes?"

"When you say 'pursue a relationship', that doesn't include harmless flirting, right?" she asked somewhat hopefully.

I sighed, exasperated. "I suppose not. But I don't see any point in flirting when you know you're not getting together."

She turned to me and stared as though I had just dropped down in front of her from another planet. "I guess I couldn't expect you to understand, but flirting is fun sometimes. Especially with a cute guy. You should try it. I mean, if you ever relax and let go once in awhile." Having said what she wanted to say, she headed inside calmly, leaving the door open for me.

I shook my head and followed after a minute.

Pointless flirting? That's what she considers _fun_?

I will never understand that girl.

* * *

**From Chex:**I can't believe I typed this all up in one day. This turned out pretty much right for me. The next chapter will either be Brick's or Boomer's POV. I haven't decided. Any particular requests people? Review please.


	7. Brick

**From Chex: **Thank you to those of you who reviewed last chapter. I'm sorry for the wait, but I can't honestly say if I'll be able to update sooner. I'll do my best and update whenever possible, so please be patient. This chapter will be in Brick's POV.

* * *

"_The monkey's going senile. I don't think he knows what he's doing anymore, if he ever did._"

Channel 12 was showing a report of the break-in at the Townsville Correctional Facility. A petty, pointless crime, as far as the public knew. It had only taken the Powerpuffs a few moments to identify the culprit. (I wonder why they even bother to have a police force. It's got to have been years since a cop has actually convicted someone in this city.) Mojo, obviously.

The ape had left in a black version of his usual attire. An infant could've identified him. He had successfully retrieved his toilet, (which was just as pointless), but at what cost? The girls were onto him now.

"_**Well, I hope you're proud of yourself!**_" Him shouted, enraged, at Mojo who was still "disguised". "_**All you've managed to do was draw attention to yourself! We'll be lucky if the girls don't show up here any second!**_"

"Don't be ridiculous," Mojo huffed. "As you heard, the girls have no plans of pursuing me."

That in itself surprised me. I've always questioned Pinky's intelligence. And apparently I've been right all along if she's going to dismiss this case as nothing. Even if they think Mojo's just slowly going insane, you'd think the least they would do is investigate. He still damaged public property, which is a crime.

If you ask me, the girls are getting lazy.

It's times like this when I really can't believe I'm working with imbeciles like Mojo and Him against imbeciles like the Powerpuff Girls. If I wasn't so convinced that this plan is virtually flawless, all alliances would be broken.

Until this plan is in full motion, I'm restraining myself from getting involved in any of the decision making. After which, I plan to take over and get rid of Him and Mojo. But until then, I need to maintain their trust. The less I'm involved with any big decisions, the less they consider me a threat. God knows they need my help now, but it's better to just go along with things until we reach the final stage. And that's assuming they can get things going on their own. The green Puff wasn't too far off about Mojo's mental state. He is getting on in years.

"We're gonna be here all damn night," Butch groaned, watching Him and Mojo retreat into the lab to continue their argument.

"Why is it that every chance you get you spend your time lazing on this very couch, but when someone actually _wants_ you to do that, you've suddenly got so many places to be?" One night at home won't kill him.

"Because I don't like pleasing people."

"And you're not good at it either."

"I don't get why they don't just do it and get it over with," Boomer said. "It couldn't have taken this long to make us." I sighed. Boomer may never fully understand what's going on, but he should at least get the basic points. Or at least enough so that he quits irritating me with stupid shit like this.

"Ok, this is the one and only time I'm going to explain it, so pay attention." He nodded. "One: It's going to take longer because Mojo has to monitor in order to make sure there's only one molecular structure being formed. We don't need a whole other team of Ruffs. Understand?"

"...I guess so."

I rolled my eyes. I guess that's the best I'm going to get. "Two: There are certain chemical compounds and hormones that need to be acquired and added to the formula. We don't need a five-year-old. And three: We're needed to keep the new guy in line. There's no telling how he'll repsond immediately after creation. Does that answer all your questions?"

"Uh-huh. Can we order a pizza?"

Why do I even bother? Boomer's got the attention span of a rodent. He can't focus on any one thing for more than ten seconds. You'd think that after 11 years his stupidity factor would decrease.

"Three large pies with everything on 'em but pineapple and anchovies," Butch said, already ordering it. He's not much better. In fact, I think the only difference between the two of them is that Boomer _can't_ pay attention and Butch _won't _pay attention. Boomer has an inability to do so and Butch just doesn't want to.

Either way, they're idiots and I'm stuck with them.

Boomer, shockingly enough, seemed thoughtful. "So what do you think the new guy'll be like?" A decent question.

"Well, his personality is likely to be an extension of Bell's. So just think of what she's like."

"Hot," Butch said immediately.

"I meant personality wise."

He nodded. "Yeah, hot."

"'Hot' is a physical characteristic, not a character trait."

"Fine then, Red. What _are_ her character traits then? Since you know every damn thing in the world you should be able to tell us exactly what he'll be like."

I glared at him and he glared back. "Well, Bell's an Honor student, so I think it's safe to say he'll be smarter than either of you two dipshits." And I hope to God that he is because I can not take anymore asininity from people I'm supposedly 'related' to. Bell's also a huge flirt though, so this guy may relate more to Butch than me or Boomer. Another thing I sure as hell don't need is another Butch.

Since Mojo first proposed the idea, I've been wondering myself what to expect from this guy. From the way Butch has been going on and on about how he and Bell beat Buttercup in soccer, I've left open a margin of possibilities, but can't help assuming certain things. It's possible that this new Ruff's physical capacity may outweigh Butch's, which is pretty impressive. Butch, however, doesn't seem the least bit concerned about this. Knowing him and the way that he can't stand to be weaker than anyone, he obviously hasn't considered this.

His intelligence is something I've been considering the most. There's a reason I'm in charge around here and it's simply because Butch and Boomer can barely direct themselves, let alone each other. My natural leadership skills self-appointed me as the person in charge from day one. If nothing else, Butch and Boomer should know better than to destroy themselves by challenging my authority.

What has been bothering me is that Bell's intelligence, strictly in terms of academics, seems to match Blossom's. So if her intelligence is relayed in the new guy...It irritates me to even think it possible. But I'm not about to rule out the possibility. I need to be prepared for anything. And that definitely includes someone who could be a threat to my position as leader.

I'm not stupid. I know the extent of my strength and abilities. I'm well aware that in terms of sheer force and power Butch is superior to me. But it's his lack of strategy and analytic thinking when fighting that makes him defeatable. It's simply a matter of outsmarting him and, believe me, that's hardly a challenge.

But Butch's strength combined with my intellect....

I really don't like the sound of that.

"What are we gonna name him?" Boomer asked suddenly. I assumed he was talking to Butch since I had tuned out of whatever conversation they'd been having.

"We're getting a new brother, not a friggin' puppy," Butch answered. "No one named us. He'll probably come with his own name."

"Oh. Right. Well, if he doesn't then I get to name him."

"Poor bastard."

"So his color's gonna be white, right?"

"Duh."

"...I can't think of a name." He can't think, period.

Butch laughed, "Big surprise there. It just has to start with a 'B'. It doesn't even have to be a real word."

"Yes it does."

"'Boomer' isn't a real word."

"Yes it is!" Boomer said angrily.

Butch smirked at him and I knew where he was going with this. "Oh yeah? Then what does it mean?" Boomer stared at him hard and it was clear he had no intention of answering. "See? You don't even know what your own name means."

He turned to me. "Brick--"

"It's an Australian word for an adult male kangaroo." I looked up the definitions to our names when I was 10. "And before you ask, 'butch' means macho. And we all know what a brick is." Other than the literal sense, a brick is basically a helpful, reliable person. Which is only half true for me. I don't help anyone but myself. But God knows my brothers would be helpless without me to rely on. There were a few other definitions, but the only one that seemed even remotely fitting was a 'power supply' or 'source of power'.

Butch mulled that over that for a second. "Well, _my_ name is definitely dead-on," he said smugly. "Yours too, Boomer."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. It doesn't make a crap's worth of sense and neither do you."

"Go to Hell."

"How 'bout you make me, Kangaroo Boy?"

I could already see where this was going. Boomer was on the verge of getting his ass handed to him. He really needs to learn who he _can_ and _can't_ mouth off to. Which should be simple since everyone except Butch and I are filed under _Can_.

_**Ding!**_

I decided to save Boomer an ass beating for once. "Go get the door, Blondie." He got up, kicking Butch's leg out of is way as he went. (Idiot doesn't learn. He _needs_ to get the shit beat out of him once in a while.) Butch growled and started to stand. "Chill. He's getting the food. And if you scare the pizza guy away we'll have to order another one and wait."

The door opened and the smell of pepperoni calmed Butch down enough to shut him up.

"Hey. That'll be $42.95."

Boomer laughed, "Chyea right." He slammed the door in the guy's face. There were shouts and pounding on the other side of the door, but he ignored them. You'd think, as often as we do that, they'd stop delivering to this address. Just goes to show you, this town is full of morons.

Boomer returned with three large pizzas in one hand, and his other hand shoved in his pocket. He pulled it out and waved a brown leather wallet at us. "Swiped it."

"Decent." Butch grabbed the pizza on top. Boomer handed me and plopped back onto the couch with his box on his lap.

"Should we have gotten some for Him and Mojo?" he asked, taking a bite out of two slices at once.

"Like Hell. They can feed themselves."

That was the end of all conversation for awhile. In a matter of minutes, Butch had tore through more than half his pizza. And Boomer was making a mess of himself. Nothing out of the ordinary.

I'm beginning to wonder how this new guy is going to adjust. From what I've observed of the Powerpuffs, there's loads of hostility between Bell and Buttercup. And even though it's more subtle, Blossom clearly doesn't enjoy being in Bell's company. The only one who seems to genuinely like her is the blue one. But she's not much to go on.

So I'm wondering, is all that a result of previous altercations? Or is it something natural and unavoidable? I, myself, haven't even met the guy, he doesn't even exist yet, and I don't think I like him. This could mean trouble. If the Puffs are anything to go by, then he'll only associate himself with Boomer (God knows why). He and Butch could be at each others' throats on a daily basis. That's an extra migraine I could really do without.

A loud explosion resounded through the rooms and a door came flying through and hit the wall.

"Holy--!" Butch choked on his pizza.

Boomer glanced at the broken door, then down the hall. "He's here already? That was faster than I thought." I stood up and set my box aside.

Guess the only thing left to do is go see if I'm right. "Let's go."

* * *

**From Chex:** I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get this all done. But I'm glad I was able to before the end of the month. I think I did a decent job, even though it's a bit shorter than I'd like. He definitely resembles Blossom, constantly thinking and considering options and alternatives. Anyway, please review and give me some feedback.


	8. Blaze

**From Chex: **I haven't even typed it yet and already I'm not sure about this chapter. But at this point I haven't got much to lose, so here it is. The new guy's POV.

* * *

"_**Welcome my son!**_" Was the first thing I heard after the explosion. Immediately followed by: "He's my son too! Boys! Get in here! He's here!" By 'here' I'm assuming they were talking about the post-explosion room I was standing in the center of. Several broken computers, monitors, and various technical machines lined the walls. There was shattered glass around my feet, and the door was gone, assuming there had ever been one.

A red clawed creature, draped in pink fur and covered in way too much make-up, circled me and I glared at it. "What do you think you're doing?"

"_**Your first words!**_"

I think it's safe to say whatever the Hell this thing is, it's not mentally stable.

"Boys," the other voice, a sickly-green ape in a purple cape and turban, announced. "Meet your new brother."

Three guys filed into the room.

The first of which was a red-head with a baseball cap. He had blood-red eyes and walked into the room as if he owned, not just the room, but the whole freakin' world. He stared directly at me and I stared right back. His eyes narrowed and his body tensed. He seemed to be assessing me for some reason. Either that, or trying to intimidate me.

The other two stood on either side of him. On his right was a blue-eyed blonde. He was grinning at me expectantly, like he was waiting for me to do something entertaining. Not happening.

Finally, on his left was a guy clad completely in black. Even his hair was black. The only visible color he had was his green eyes. He leaned against the wall, seemingly casual. But there was something unsettling about him. He had this kind of energy that made you think he might go off at any moment. Regardless, he was grinning wickedly at me, but for a reason completely different from the blonde guy's.

"_**Oh boys!**_" The red thing cried in an annoyingly high-pitched voice. "_**Aren't you excited?**_"

"Thrilled," Red said dryly.

The creature put it's arm around me and I could feel it's pink-fuzzed coat tickle my neck. I shoved it off. "Don't fucking touch me."

It shrugged, unfazed. "_**I can understand why you're a bit moody, son. I'm sure you have a lot of questions--**_"

"No, actually. Right now I just have one question, and it's: Who the Hell are you people?" I asked, glancing quickly at all of them, my gaze skimmed over the monkey and stopped back on It. "And I use the term 'people' loosely."

"I think I'm gonna like this guy," the dude in black said.

"Well, I think it's time we run the tests," the monkey announced, completely ignoring my question, and thereby pissing me off. I may have only been alive for less than several minutes, but I'm almost certain monkeys don't normally talk.

"_**I thought we went over this!**_" It's voice went from sickeningly sweet to deeply threatening."_**We give him the explanation first!**_"

"But I need to run the tests as soon as possible!"

"_**And there'll be plenty of time for that tomorrow!**_"

"Tomorrow may be to late!"

It went back and forth with the monkey, both screaming until their words were completely overlapping and it was impossible to tell what either one of them was saying.

The three guys filed out of the room. The blonde one jerked his head towards the door. "C'mon." He was talking to me. I'm not sure what the hell makes him think I would want to follow him, but he waited. I glanced over at the arguing pair, both completely lost in their own world. I realized I could either stay here and wait for them to decide on some kind of "test"/"explanation", or I could follow these guys, who at least seemed relatively normal.

I followed Blondie out into what appeared to be the living room of whatever place we were in. There was a beaten up couch surrounded by scattered pizza boxes and random crap. I grabbed a slice of pepperoni out of one of the boxes and sat down. I downed it in two large bites. The red-head had disappeared, but the other two were watching me closely.

"Dude just ate my pizza."

"Butch, he's never had anything to eat in his life."

"His life started, like, 5 minutes ago!"

"Can you quit talkin' like I'm not here," I said, grabbing yet another slice and shoving it into my mouth. This stuff is pretty good. "And is anyone going to answer my question? Who are you all?"

"Brick." The red guy reappeared from around the corner of what appeared to be a second hallway. He was carrying a short stack of manila folders. "That's Boomer," he nodded towards the blonde one. "and that's Butch." All three of them looked at me expectantly. I grabbed a beer from off the table and took a sip.

Boomer was grinning wider than ever, like some kind of deranged lunatic. "And you are--"

"Blaze."

He frowned. "Damn."

Butch snickered. "Told ya."

"Well, _Blaze_," Brick dropped down beside me on the couch. With a sweep of his hand, he cleared the coffee table of all the boxes and cans, all of which spilled onto the floor. He didn't seem at all concerned about it. He simply laid out the manila folders in an arc covering the table. There were four. Three that appeared to be full, and one that was considerably thinner. "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I'm not sure if that's true yet."

I narrowed my eyes and frowned. "Likewise."

"Now listen up. I'm going to explain everything. Who we are, why you're here, where you are, etc. So pay attention so I don't have to repeat myself." I hated the superior tone of voice he was using, but I wanted answers more than I wanted to bitch about it.

At the moment.

"So start talking."

He sighed and leaned back, then turned to the others. "Are you two sitting in for this one or not?"

Boomer shrugged and sat down to the right of me. Butch sat on the other side of Brick. "I guess so. It's not like I have _plans_ or anything now since he obviously didn't loose control." He glared at Brick as he said this.

"Whatever." Brick turned back to me. I kicked my feet up and leaned fully back. From the look on his face, this was gonna be a long explanation. "Ok, for starters, this is Townsville. A stupid town full of stupid people run by a complete moron. _We_," he indicated himself, Boomer, Butch, and I. "are the superiors."

"We're also supervillians," Boomer informed me.

"For reasons I will explain in a moment, we have formed an alliance with those two." He pointed towards the hallway we came from. Voices could still be heard screaming in full-on rage. "The monkey's name is Mojo. He's an, ahem, _evil genius_," he said with a roll of his eyes. "His brain was mutated in a chemical explosion, giving him the ability to speak and think at a higher rate than most humans. As well as turning him evil."

"But he mostly just blathers on and on about how he's going to conquer the world one day and yadda yadda yadda," Butch said.

Brick sighed impatiently and Butch shut-up. There was a short pause before he continued. "Him, the clawed one, is a supernatural creature with supernatural powers. His origins are unknown so don't ask. And, like the rest of us, he's evil."

"But what's his name?" I asked.

"Him."

"Yeah."

"That's his name. Him. Or at least that's what he's referred to as."

I stared at him blankly. "You all live here?" He nodded. "And you don't even know the name of that thing you're living with?" Are these people mental or something?

"He's universally regarded as 'Him'." Red said firmly.

"Whatever."

He glared at me. "_Anyway_, we are the Rowdyruff Boys. We were first created about 11 years ago by Mojo. We were..._destroyed_. And then resurrected by Him."

"So that's how you're associated with those guys."

"Yes and no." I waited and he pointed towards the folders. Each one was labeled. I picked up the one on the far right. It read: _The Powerpuff Girls: Bubbles_. I opened it. Inside was a 8x10 photo of a cute blonde girl with bright blue eyes who looked disturbingly a lot like Boomer. She looked like she was floating in thin air and smiling and waving at the camera. Beneath the picture was a complete bio including her age, school, address, estimated strength level, estimated intelligence level, estimated speed, known powers, and several other tidbits of information that I had no idea why these guys would want.

"So...you keep files on all the girls in this town or something?" That's _not _a pedo in the making.

"Just four." That's so much better.

"Creepy man."

"Look, we have all come together for a common purpose. We all have the same goal." He opened up each of the folders. "They are our common enemy. The only thing stopping us from taking over this town, and, thereafter, the world." A picture of a girl was inside each one, and each girl resembled one of the guys sitting next to me. Except for one. The thinner folder, which contained a folder of a white-haired, white-eyed girl. Something about her struck me. I picked up the folder.

"Enemy?" I scoffed. "They look harmless."

"Looks can be deceiving. We were created specifically to destroy these girls. As you can see, we each bare a resemblance to one of them. They're our counterparts. I was created to destroy Blossom," he pointed at the pink-eyed girl. "Butch has been created to destroy Buttercup," A girl who, you could tell just from her picture, had an attitude problem. "And Boomer was created to destroy Bubbles."

"What about this one? Bell." I tapped the picture of the girl in the folder I was holding.

"That's where you come in."

Hmm...counterpart, huh? I guess that explains why they all look alike. I'd say 'we', but I haven't seen myself yet. Although if 'Bell' is anything to go by, I think it's safe to say I look pretty damn good. "But I was created less than an hour ago. This girl, according to all the info you have, has existed for a while."

"Originally, there were only three Puffs. Bell literally appeared out of nowhere. One day she just showed up. We've only got record of two months of her existence. But I'm sure you can guess what your purpose is."

"To destroy her."

He nodded. "Eventually. But right now you're part of a bigger plan."

--

"So what makes you think I even want to be a part of all this?"

"What other choice do you have?"

"I could leave you know."

"And go where?"

Good question. "Anywhere I want really." Not that I had someplace in mind. But I'm not sure about these guys.

He eyed me skeptically for a minute and then nodded, more to himself than at me. "Well, regardless, as of this moment on you're a Rowdyruff Boy."

For some reason, that sounded right. Something told me that if there was anywhere in the world I was supposed to be, it was here, regardless of how freakish my 'brothers' and 'fathers' were. Where else would I go?

"I guess I am."

"WHOO!!" Two loud cheers erupted from behind me, I started to turn around when something cold and wet hit my head, streaming steadily until it soaked through my hair and started to run down my face and clothes.

Beer.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" I jumped up, spun around and grabbed both Boomer and Butch by their collars. "What's wrong with you two assholes?!"

Butch's eyes lit up and he smirked. "He's losing control..." he said in a taunting tone of voice.

Boomer laughed nervously. "Ignitation!"

"What?"

Brick rolled his eyes and smirked at me. "Initiation. That's their dumbass way of officially making you our brother."

"Although if you want, we could give you a physical test..." Butch offered, grinning smugly. I scowled at him.

"Is that some kind of challenge?"

"If you think you could take it."

Brick stood up. "Well, I'm done so you two can take that into the TR if you want. We're gonna have to get you in there eventually."

Butch wrenched away from me and zipped in a green flash down the second hallway. For some reason, the green trail of light didn't surprise me in the least. "Let's go then!" I went after him, not sure where he was going, but not about to let him get away with it that easily. Boomer and Brick followed.

Like I said, I'm _really_ not sure about these guys.

* * *

**From Chex:** Oh God, I have no idea what to say about this. I was dreading this chapter, but I had to get it out there eventually. So here it is. If there's ever been a time to encourage feedback, it's now. Review please!

(-edited- as of 9-25/09)

Just to be clear, "It" is Blaze referring to Him.


	9. Boomer

**From Chex: **Dear God, this is getting more and more difficult. Part of me just wants to plunge right into my newest idea for this story, but that would require leaving mondo gaps in the plotline. (sigh) I suppose the sooner I get this out there the faster I get to my plunge. Boomer's POV finally.

* * *

The new guy _kicks ass._ Namely Butch's.

Seriously, ten minutes into the fight and he had Butch backed into a corner. The guy was pissed, that much was obvious. And, ok, _maybe_ pouring that beer on him wasn't making a good first impression or whatever, but he didn't have to go all blood-crazy on us. Either way, the odds are totally against Butch for once.

Not that anyone would ever tell _him_ that. He'd rip off your skin and shove it down your throat.

Blaze sent off some freaky spiral energy attack and charged at Butch. This blinding white tornado surrounded him like a force-field and then he just took off at top speed. The tornado itself repelled Butch and sent him flying into the wall, but coupled with this really intense barrage of punches..._damn_.

I always wondered how our powers came so naturally. It's like when we were first created we already knew what we were and had a pretty decent idea of what we were capable of. The basic stuff like laser vision, some energy blasts, simple stuff we could do without even thinking about. But we discovered other powers years later that we actually had to practice at until we could do them right.

"Uh, don't you think he's going a little hard on Butch?" I asked Brick. He was leaning against the wall with his leg propped up. He had one of those intense looks on his face like he was concentrating on the details of the fight. Which, when you think about, is pretty pointless. Butch is getting his ass kicked. It's just that simple. Nothing complicated about it that I could see. "Maybe we should do something?"

He didn't answer. In fact, he seemed pretty dead-set on ignoring me. Not that I haven't gotten used to that.

But Blaze was still pounding on Butch and I wasn't about to step into the middle of _that_ without someone to back me up.

Blaze doubled back, to survey the damage I guess. Which wasn't such a good idea. Out of all of us, Butch creates the most powerful energy beams, and that opening was all he needed to fire off a huge one. It hit Blaze dead-on and threw him through the air and onto his back. He was quick to get back on his feet, but Butch had already charged him. After a while they were moving so fast I couldn't tell who was hitting who anymore.

But there was blood on the floor, so someone _must've_ been hitting someone.

"_**Ah, you're bonding! How wonderful!**_"

Him entered in a puff of reddish smoke. Butch and Blaze stopped assaulting each other long enough to look up. Blaze glared at Him. "Does that thing ever _leave_?"

"We were working on Blaze's training technique," Brick stated calmly. He's a really good liar.

Or is that really what we were doing?

"_**Good, good. Well, enough of that,**_" Him waved his hand at us like we were doing something childish that wasn't worth his time. "_**I think it's time we initiated the next phase of the plan.**_"

We waited until Brick spoke up. "Which would be?"

"_**Deception.**_"

"I was wondering when we'd get to that. It seems slightly belated."

I glanced between Brick and Him, waiting for someone to explain just what the hell the next phase of the plan was. Him and Mojo tell Brick everything and he doesn't tell us anything. I guess he's always spoken for us, but he could at least tell us what we're supposed to do beforehand.

"So is someone going to explain or what?" Butch asked impatiently.

"_**I was hoooping you'd ask**_," Him said. In this really creepy voice.

And by that I mean creepier than usual.

"_**Come, come, my boys. Allow me to explain.**_" When none of us moved, Him came over to us. You'd think that after the his first failed attempts Him would stop with the family-affection crap. Blaze kicked Butch off of him and jumped to his feet. Butch almost countered him after that, but refrained himself in front of Him. "_**Now then, I'll make this short and simple. As you're all aware, your ties with the girls are, well...nonexistent.**_"

Duh. They're our archenemies. We were made to destroy them. Why the hell would we have "ties"? And they call _me_ dumb.

"_**We need to change that.**_ _**So as of now, your side mission is to earn the girls' trust.**_"

"Uh, hello? They hate us."

"That's the problem, Boomer," Brick said impatiently. "We need to detract suspicion from ourselves when the plan is actually put into action."

"So...if we can't do that, will the plan fail?" Because if it all depends on us becoming friends with the girls' then this is a serious waste of time. I mean, _really_. From what I understand, Buttercup's about ready to kill Butch, Blossom can barely stand to be in the same room as Brick, and Bubbles won't even _look_ at me. Bell's pretty much okay, but one out of four?

We're screwed.

"Not necessarily. But the plan has a much better chance of succeeding if we go through with this phase."

"Let me get this straight," Butch said slowly. "Are you actually saying you _want_ us to go for 'em? As in, I'm officially allowed to screw Bell."

"God, can you think with your brains and not your balls for once?" Brick groaned.

"_**Bell's a no-no boys. But feel free to pursue a relationship with any of the other girls.**_"

"What do you mean 'a no-no'?! You're saying we have to play nice with the girls and I can't even get with the hot one?! That's so fucked up!" Butched kicked the wall, making the cement fall through and leaving a gaping cracked hole.

"_**The girls relationship with their new 'sister' is strained as it is. That's vital to the plan. Don't do anything to bring them any closer together. I want you to keep your distance from Bell.**_"

"So fucked up..."

"_**Brick, I trust you to explain the details while I get dinner ready. It's lasagna night!"**_And then he left. God, I get so freaked out just thinking of him in that stupid pink apron he wears when he cooks. But I could go for lasagna. That pizza didn't last long. I didn't even get to eat all of it and the rest is probably cold by now if Him hasn't dumped it.

"Boomer!"

Brick slapped the back of my head. "What?!"

"Pay attention, idiot."

Stupid bastard...If he really thinks I'm stupid, why the hell does he keep hitting me in the head? Like that's supposed to help.

--

I might actually be able to pull this off. I mean, sure Bubbles probably doesn't want anything to do with me, but I've had harder assignments. Besides, she's the nicest one out of the three, and if I have to spend an extended amount of time around a girl it might as well be a cute one.

I actually feel sorry for Butch. Buttercup's a bitch. But as of right now, she's his bitch to handle. And he's got some major ass-kissin' to do if he wants to win her over before we graduate. Brick didn't give us any specifics, other than "Just stick to your counterparts. I don't trust either of you with Blossom." Which, if you ask me, sounds a little protective. But he swore it was just because me and Butch aren't smart enough to deceive Blossom.

_This is gonna be so easy._

Now I just hafta find my assignment.

Me and Bubbles have English, Algebra 2, and Foundations of Art together. That's three periods out of five and we even have lunch at the same time. Finding her is just a matter of waiting.

"See you at practice, Rachel!"

Or maybe not.

Bubbles waved as some chubby girl with a ponytail hurried down the hall. She started walking in the same direction more slowly. I caught up to her in a second. "Hey, Bubbles."

She stopped. As in, literally, froze. Her mouth dropped open slightly and she stared at me with those huge blue eyes like I'd just spoken in some sort of alien language. She took a step back.

I decided it was best if I pretended not to notice. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Ah..." She looked around, probably for her sisters to come and save her, and took another step back. "What do you want?" Her feet started moving again, and she was looking everywhere but at me. I kept pace easily.

"Wait up. It'll only take a sec." I took her by the arm and led her against the lockers. "Listen I...What?" She was staring at my hand on her arm, like at any second the skin might start to melt off or something.

I let go of her slowly and placed both hands in my pocket. _Okay. Note to self: Bubbles does not like to be touched._

"I-I'm going to be late for class," she stammered.

"We. We're going the same place," I reminded her. She bit her lip and stared back at me. "Listen, I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to go out with me this Saturday." She gave me that open-mouthed fish look again. "Ya know, on a date."

"...With _you_?"

Okay, _that_I'm taking personally. What's wrong with me? I mean, God. She makes it sound like I'm so kind of diseased loser. What, does she think she's too good for me or something? I know I tried to kill her, but c'mon! That was eleven years ago. Let it go.

_Yeah, __**me**__. Why the hell not me?_ "Um...yes?"

"_Why_?" Again, she has to make it sound like it's the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"To, uh, you know. Hang out. Have fun. Get to know each other." God, that sounds cheesy. Why does she have to make this difficult? Really, what's the worst that can happen? We go out for one night. The universe isn't gonna explode.

Then again, she might still think I want to kill her. Maybe I should mention that I won't... "Hey, look. It's not like I'm going to--"

"Hey, Bubs!" Some dark-haired guy in a football jersey called out, pushing his way against the hallway traffic towards us. Bubbles froze up again and I wondered if maybe that was the way she responded when everyone greeted her. But a second later her face was bright and she was smiling.

At me.

"Sure, Boomer! I'd love to go out with you!" she said.

I tried not to look surprised. "Seriously?" _Damn, that was easy!_

She nodded and grabbed my arm. Honestly. The girl who, less than two minutes ago, was acting as if touching me could burn the skin from her bones, was now holding onto _my_ arm like we were already dating. Mood-swings much. "Oh. Hi, Ryan."

Her football guy stopped a couple feet away from us, staring from me to Bubbles and back again. "Uh, yeah. Hey. What's going on here?" Like that's some of his business.

"Me and Boomer were just heading to class," Bubbles said, tugging slightly on my arm. She smiled sweetly at him. "Did you want something?"

"Um...no," he said uncertainly. He scratched his head and looked at her with this half nervous/half confused look on his face. "Just sayin' hey. I'll catch you later, I guess."

"Sure. See ya!" Bubbles took off, still holding me by the arm, and I stumbled after her. The girl's faster than I thought. I glanced over my shoulder at Ryan. He caught my eye and glared. What the hell is with these football players? They know they don't stand a chance against me and my brothers. And if they think they do, they're even dumber than _I_ gave them credit for.

And that's saying something.

Bubbles let go of me outside the door to English. She didn't say anything. She didn't even look at me. Her hand dropped from my arm and she hurried inside, ducking her head and going to her seat. Ignoring me for the rest of class.

Total mood swing issues.

--

"You asked her out?"

"She actually said _ye_s?"

We sat on the roof of the closest burger joint. Me and my brothers never spend lunch in the cafeteria. Something, according to Brick, that's going to change pretty soon. Butch was shoving a double-stack into his mouth. I had a chicken sandwich and Brick, for some reason, wasn't eating at all. He did have Butch grab him a Coke though.

I shrugged. "You say it like your surprised. Didn't think I could do it?"

"I'm surprised by the fact that she actually went along with it," Brick said. From his tone, I couldn't tell if he thought this was good or bad. He's so damn secretive he's impossible to read him. "In any event, I didn't mean for you to be so obvious about it. She'll probably think something's up. Or she'll tell her sisters, who will definitely think something's up."

"Yeah, Boomer," Butch smirked.

Brick cut in before I could. "You shut-up. Until Buttercup stops hating your guts and can actually stand to talk to you, you don't get any say in anything."

"Yeah, Butch." Serves him right. But I can't believe Brick isn't happy about this. Not that he's ever really _happy_ but whatever. I totally did my job right! I'm ahead of both of 'em! "At least I'm making progress."

"That's not fair! He got the easy one! I could've asked what's-her-face out." Butch groaned and tossed his wrapper over the edge of the roof.

"Bubbles," I corrected him.

"Like her name matters."

Brick shook his head, in disgust most likely. "See? It's that kind of attitude that's not going to get you anywhere with Buttercup."

Butch sneered back at him. "For _your_ information, Buttercup _did_ talk to me today."

"And she said...?"

"Well, it was more like talking _at _me. I was looking at her, ya know, because I figured I'd hafta say something eventually. And she caught me. So she leaned over to this girl next to her, she said it to her, but it was obviously meant for me 'cuz--"

"What the hell did she say, Butch?"

He rolled his eyes and mumbled, his voice going slightly high-pitched in a poor imitation of Buttercup, "She was like, 'Tell that worthless piece of shit that if he so much as looks in my direction again I'll punch his eyeballs back into his brain.'"

I laughed in his face. "Oh, yeah! She's totally into you."

Brick was slightly more composed, but even he couldn't keep the smirk off his face. "And you said...?"

"...What makes you think I said somethin'?"

"Butch..."

"'As if you could ever get that close, you pussy-sucking morpho.'"

"You said that to her?" I whistled low. "Well...good to see you making progress."

"Really," Brick said, amused. "Obviously you have this _completely_ under control."

Butch muttered something too low for us to hear and Brick slapped him. "Christ! Well, it's not like I see you gettin' anywhere with Blossom. What about that, _huh_?"

"I have everything planned out," Brick said confidently. He always uses his superior tone of voice when he praises himself in a way he knows we won't understand. "The day's only halfway through."

"Right. And I bet by the end of it you and Blossom will be best buddies," Butch said sarcastically.

"I'm taking a slightly more...subtle approach. But I can guarentee I'll be better off than you by the end of the day, if I'm not already."

This quickly progressed into an argument involving Butch swearing to _God_ that if he had been assigned any other girl, any one at all, he could have her bowing at his feet in a matter of minutes. To which Brick argued that this _obviously_ meant Butch couldn't handle a _real_ challenge. And of course at the mention of Butch and a challenge all Hell broke loose...

So I decided to sit this one out. Brick can be conceited and Butch can be an ass. That's on them.

I'm the one with the date.

* * *

**From Chex:** Hmm...I'm wondering if I made this chapter slightly _too_obvious. But I incorporated all the basic elements I wanted in this chapter. And it turned out pretty long too. :) Don't think that because Boomer suddenly asked Bubbles out that I'm trying to speed along the plotline or anything. Not the case. In any event, feedback, as always, would be greatly appreciated.


	10. Brick 2

**From Chex: **Really. The tenth chapter already. The way this is progressing, I see this being a very lengthy story. Possibly 30+ chapters. Not sure. Anyway, no point in delaying this any longer. Enjoy chapter 10 in Brick's POV. :)

* * *

There's a word for what I'm doing.

In fact there are a lot of words. Stealing. Cheating. Breaking and entering. But really, when a teacher leaves their classroom empty and unlocked with all their precious papers, test answers, and various personal items, what do they expect?

But I wasn't interested in any of those things. And I wasn't about to get caught. Mrs. Carson doesn't come in until the warning bell goes off for first period, I know for a fact. She usually stays in the teacher's lounge until then. Which gives me a good six minutes to do what I came to do. I pushed the door open and immediately went to Mrs. Carson's desk, picking up her clipboard and flipping through several pages until I found the agenda for AP Biology. The very first item happened to be exactly what I needed.

_Introduce semester-long project._ _Assign partners._ _Allow time for brainstorming._

The rest seemed to be related to this. On the next page I found the list of assigned partners. Clearly Mrs. Carson had thought this through in hopes of getting the best possible results from everyone, pairing the weaker kids with the more adept ones. Which explained why she paired me off with Lewis Beckermhan, a hopeless social _and_ academic disaster. I have yet to find out how he managed to get into an AP class, but I don't really care enough to look into it.

Blossom was paired off with Lili Anderson, a girl widely known for cheating and blowing off assignments, but who gets away with it because her parents donated a crapload of new machines to the computer lab. And even though it wasn't really relevant to what I was doing, I found Bell's partner as well; Lacey McHenry, an average student.

Well, clearly Mrs. Carson's plans weren't going to work for me at all. But I could fix that...

--

"Alright, class! Before I assign partners and the complaints ensue, I'd like to remind you all that this project accounts for about 70% of your final grade. If you don't do it, you'll fail. Miserably." She stopped and smiled at us, seeming pleased when there were no outbursts. Mrs. Carson is a pretty straight-forward teacher. She gives us work. We do it. Case closed. But she doesn't tolerate childish behaviour, unlike most teachers who expect it. At least at some level. This is a high school after all.

"Now then," she continued. "I'm going to call you out in pairs. When I call your names please arrange yourselves so that you're sitting with your partners. But pick a seat and keep it so I can record the new seating chart."

She proceeded to call out names. I glanced over at Blossom. Instead of desks, we have six lab tables arranged in two rows of three that seat four people a table. Blossom was seated at the very front, being the little brown nose she is. I couldn't help but smirk imagining her reaction. Just looking at the set of her shoulders told me she was tense. Clearly she didn't like the thought of working with _anyone_. Typical.

Mrs. Carson paused from reading out names, frowned, and squinted at her paper. "Lili Anderson and...Lewis Beckermhan?" It came out sounding more like a question than a statement.

"_What?_" Lili shrieked, the first protester to the partner assignment. Lewis turned around in his seat and grinned at her like a lech. Lili did nothing to hide her shudder. "Please Mrs. Carson, you can't--" Mrs. Carson held up her hand. Standards in this class are set in stone. No extensions on assignments, no turning in incomplete work, and absolutely no partner or group changes. Mrs. Carson's nothing if not consistent, and, just as I predicted, if she thought she'd decided this herself she wasn't about to change her mind for anyone.

"You know the rules, Lili. Now, where was I? Hmm....Bell and Lacey. Carrie and Tony. Jason and Amber. Brick and Blossom. Ma--"

"_Excuse me?_" Blossom shot out of her seat. "I don't think I heard you correctly."

"Um...you're with Brick, Blossom," Mrs. Carson repeated, sounding completely uncertain.

She started stammering, "I-I can't possibly--"

"Now Blossom, I _know_ you know the rules--"

"But you don't understand! I can't work with him under _any_ conditions." She said forcefully. Her fist clenched at her sides. I snickered. It's not everyday you see Blossom lose her temper, much less talk back to a teacher.

Mrs. Carson narrowed her eyes at her, speaking every bit as forcefully. "Then I suggest you find a way. I do not and will not make exceptions for anyone." _Not even you,_ I could practically hear her thinking by the way her eyes softened when Blossom's shoulders slumped and she heaved a sigh. It's also not everyday a teacher refuses Blossom something.

As Mrs. Carson continued to go through the list, Blossom gathered her things painstakingly slowly. She stood up with her books in her arms and straightened up. Unsurprisingly, she didn't look at me as she made her way over, her eyes fixed on the seat in front of me. She sat down, folded her hands in front of her and stared at me hard, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"I hate this."

I snorted. "Then for the first time in history we agree on something." The only real trick to this was make it seemed like I hated this just as much, which wasn't hard. Just because I'm forced to 'get closer to her' doesn't mean I have to enjoy it. And I sure as hell won't.

"Then I suggest we get this project out of the way as quickly as possible." She pulled out some notes and paper and starting writing God knows what. The class was buzzing with chatter as the brainstorming began. Everyone was settling in, some more easily than others. "And let me make this clear now: I will _not_ be doing all the work."

"Like I'd let you."

Her pen stopped. She looked up and fixed me with that stare again. "Excuse me?"

"I don't exactly trust you with my entire grade, you know. If whether or not I pass this class depends on this project I'll be damned if I leave it in _your_ hands." I crossed my arms and leaned back, waiting to see how she'd take that.

She gritted her teeth. "Are you saying I'm not _capable_?"

I smirked. "I'm saying I'm _more_ capable."

Her fist clenched around her pen and it cracked, almost snapping in her grip. She immediately dropped it and turned away from me, pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a deep breath. "Look," she practically growled. "this isn't going to get us anywhere fast. I'm not debating with you about this. So lets just decide what we're going to do. We have to do an in-depth analyzation of the genetic structure, life development, growth, and vital systems of an animal. So how about we start simple and pick an animal. And since you're so _capable_ I'm sure you already have tons of ideas."

I shrugged. Naturally, I had an idea that would make anything Blossom, or anyone else in here, thought of seem like F-worthy shit. But there's no reason why I can't have fun irritating her.

"So you've got nothing?"

"Not necessarily. I just figured I'd let you take care of this part since it's damn near impossible to screw up."

She rose from her chair. "Okay, I can't do this."

"Then I suppose we'll add 'Completing a long-term project' to your ever-growing list of inabilities."

"And we'll add 'Being the least bit tolerable' to yours!" Her voice rose up a level and I suppressed the urge to laugh. Really, this is _too_ easy. All it takes to rile her up is the slightest insult to her intelligence. She's so incredibly predictable it's sad, really.

"I knew this wasn't going to work," she continued. "I knew you weren't going to work well with anyone given your obvious social deficiency." She ran a hand halfway through her hair, exasperated. "I just never thought it would end up being _my_ problem."

I ran her words back through my head quickly. Social deficiency? "Excuse me? What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

She blinked at me. Then rolled her eyes as if this was something we both knew I was aware off. "No use pretending Brick. Your social development is...well, nonexistent. Clearly you have an an issue interacting with normal people. It's nothing to be ashamed of I suppose. Lots of people are introverts. I suggest you talk to a psychiatrist or the guidance counselor. I'm sure someone will be able to help you."

I wanted to choke her. I wanted to wrap my hands around her little throat and just block off the words (along with her air supply). Who the hell does she think she is diagnosing me like some damn professional? She doesn't know crap about me. And I have no trouble "interacting with normal people". I just choose not to. It's a waste of time. Her life may revolve around these pathetic townies, but I have better things to do.

Like plan how I'm going to kill them all.

"Did you ever stop to think, _Pinky_, that maybe it's just _you_ I have a problem interacting with?" I glared at her, hard. It took me a moment to realize that I was standing up as well. I stared down at her, silently daring her to contradict me or insult me again, and at the same time wondering if I shouldn't just kill her now and save myself the trouble of _getting to know her_.

Even though I towered a good five or six inches over her, she glared back up at me. Unfazed. "I don't doubt that. But I've never done anything to you." My eyes flashed and she held up her hand before I could even open my mouth. I wanted to break every single one of her pink-polished fingers. Slowly. "And before you go off, you hated me before you even knew my _name_, Brick. You. Have. Social. Problems." She enunciated each word slowly, like I wouldn't be able to understand her otherwise.

I do NOT have social problems. Idiots like Lewis, who trip over their own feet and spend free period getting shot down by every breathing female within the school, have social problems. People who flip off the handle over every damn thing someone says (aka Buttercup) have social problems. Blossom's legion of nerd fans, who'd sell their limbs just to touch her for five seconds, have social problems.

I do NOT have social problems.

In fact, my only current problem is her.

We glared at each other and I was seriously considering just reaching over, snapping her neck, and shutting her irritatingly big mouth up forever. She was right in front of me...

"I think they're gonna kiss."

I'm almost sure Blossom and I blinked the same time because when my eyes opened hers were no longer narrowed. I looked down and notice that both my hands were placed down on top of the table and I was leaning towards her slightly. She was in the same position. Everyone was staring. I moved back, slightly disgusted at being that close to her, and she turned her glare on her white-haired her sister, who flashed her a thumbs up.

"Not funny Bell."

Bell shrugged innocently while her partner Lacey giggled.

The bell rang.

Blossom swept up her things and flounced out of the room, throwing the door open so hard one of the hinges broke off. Either she didn't notice or she didn't care because she kept going. I left last, allowing as much space to get between us as physically possible. Which was a futile effort at best since we had next period together as well.

As I went out the door, I could hear Mrs. Carson muttering behind me:

"What the heck was I thinking putting _those_ two together?"

--

The next two classes before lunch were the most irritating hours of my _life_. I can now say, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Blossom is _The_ most stuck-up, conceited bitch to ever walk the face of the Earth. If I have a so-called social deficiency (which I don't), then she's got a _serious_ self-complex. I think she'd date herself if that weren't the creepiest, most pathetic thing in the world.

I get pissed off just watching her in class, with that smug little smile whenever she answers a question, like she knows everything in the whole damn world and is about to bless every single one of us with the answer to one of life's mysteries. I swear I've seen hot air balloons that are only _half_ the size of her head. Not to mention the look she shoots me every time I answer a question, like she's the only one allowed to be right. Please. I wouldn't be surprised if she was keeping score. In fact, judging by the way she just scowled at me, she's aware that I'm winning 8 to 6.

This is going to be the most hellish assignment ever. In fact, with the way she stares at me, like I'm so far beneath her, one of us may not survive it.

But I can't be the worst off. Boomer may be okay...for now. But Butch must be living in Hell's basement. Blossom may be an annoying bitch, but she's not a **violent**, annoying bitch. And for that one minuscule difference, I'm _almost_ grateful.

She hasn't said another word to me about the project, but I can't say I'm upset about that. I don't think at this point I could handle having an actual conversation with her without ripping her hair out by the roots and strangling her with it. And God that thought it so damn tempting...

But that would be a waste of perfectly good angry energy. And I'll need that for my trip later.

* * *

**From Chex: **It seems I'm having a problem keeping up my wpc quota. I apologize for the shortness and again for the lateness. I was a bit tapped for this chapter. This is Brick and Blossom's first interaction in the story, so I hope I played it right. Naturally, they can't stand each other. But be patient for developments. Next chapter is back to Bell. As always, feedback is encouraged.


	11. Bell 2

**From Chex: **I'm pleased to bring you the eleventh chapter. We're finally back to Bell's POV. I know it's taken awhile, but I'm trying to cover everyone, so be patient.

* * *

"You're kidding."

"I wish I was."

"You can't be serious."

"I am."

"Blossom's going to kill you."

"...I know." Bubbles slammed her head on the table and groaned. I patted her back sympathetically. Poor girl.

We sat at a back table in the library, which is almost always deserted during lunchtime, save for a few nerds and, on occasion, Blossom. But the table was between the American folklore and Greek literature sections. Two concepts not even the biggest dorks would have reason to look into. To be honest, I should've been in the cafeteria with Lacey, my partner for AP Biology and the first girl I've found who doesn't hate me on sight. She asked if I wanted to eat lunch with her. (Which means I don't have to eat lunch with Bubbles's cheerheads!)

So, naturally, something went wrong. Bubbles ambushed me after third period, on the verge of a breakdown, telling me we needed to talk, like, _now_. And of course I couldn't say no since she does just about everything she can for me.

But _wow_. I was so not expecting this.

"Will you please explain how this happened?" Because so far all I got was that she "accidentally had a date with Boomer". As in, the Rowdyruff Boy, Boomer. As in, Brick's brother. As in, _wow_. And how anyone accidentally gets a date is beyond me.

"Well, you were right about Ryan." Her head was still face-down on the table so she was kind of mumbling. "He did want to ask me out."

I rose an eyebrow. "Seriously?" Not that I'm surprised. Bubbles isn't as...aware when it comes to guys. But I can spot a potential asker a mile away. His eyes are like always on her. If Bubbles is in the room, that's where his attention is. I can't believe she doesn't know that already. "So how exactly did Boomer--"

She lifted her head. Her cheeks were flushed and her normally perfectly brushed bangs were slightly askew. Her eyes glittered the way they did when she was about to cry. "I-I was with Boomer...when Ryan came up. I knew he was gonna ask me and...and I didn't know what else to do so I said yes to Boomer! And now Blossom's gonna kill me if she finds out!" She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed. "W-What...what do I do?"

"C-Calm down!" I kept patting her shoulder while gently trying to pry her off. I'm not a huge fan of physical contact. Not the mushy-huggy kind, anyway. "Look...I'm pretty sure the No Dating Ruffs rule only applies to me."

"But there's absolutely no way Blossom would approve of me going out with Boomer."

No kidding. Especially after our partner assignment today. I think it's safe to say that Blossom is officially Rowdyruff-intolerant. "So don't tell her." Duh. She leaned back and looked at me like I just asked her to drive the getaway car after I robbed the local jewelry store. "Hear me out. It's not like she's just gonna be thinking 'I bet Bubbles has a date with Boomer!' As long as she doesn't ask, you don't really need to tell her, ya know?"

She pulled away from me and wiped her eyes. "...I don't know."

"Trust me. And besides, Boomer's, like, really hot. Why aren't you celebrating?"

"Because he's also, like, really evil," She said in an obvious tone of voice. Whatever. I mean, ok, Butch _is_kind of a perverted jackass. And, yes, Brick is pretty much a social deviant. But Boomer seems alright. We can't judge him based on what his brothers do. That would be like someone ostracizing Bubbles because Blossom's a control freak and Buttercup's a temperamental lunatic. Bubbles, despite her twisted family (which may very well become _my_ twisted family), is really sweet.

And yet...something's still not right here. Why was she with Boomer in the first place? I know they have a lot of classes together, but this is the first I've heard of them actually speaking to each other. Maybe they have a partner project too... "Hey, can we go back to the cafe now? I told Lacey I'd eat lunch with her."

"Lacey McHenry? I think she sits with Robin..."

"Who?"

"Oh, just an old friend of ours. C'mon." We only had about fifteen minutes left of lunch. When we arrived in the cafeteria the lunch lines were already closed. A few people turned our way, but pretty much everyone was already seated talking. Until I came here, I realized I've never really been around a huge crowd of people before. I always find it weird how everyone can be talking at the same time and you can't make out a single word of what anyone's saying unless they're _right_ next to you. It's just a constant buzz.

"On second thought Bell, do you think Lacey would mind if I joined you guys? Ryan's kind off..." She gestured discreetly towards our usual table where, sure enough, Ryan's eyes were glued to her. He waved us over. We both pretended not to notice.

"Sure." I looked around, noticing Lacey's blond ringlet curled head two tables over with three other girls. "Let's go." I led the way, slightly more confident than I felt. I strode over and tapped her lightly on the shoulder, hoping she hadn't been being bitchy in class so she could turn me away in front of everyone. I wouldn't put that past anyone here. She turned around, surprised, then smiled.

"Hey! Where were you? I thought you wouldn't show. Hi, Bubbles," she added with a little wave. I sat down and Bubbles squeezed in next to me. "So let me introduce you guys." She pointed to the girl on her left, leaning back so we could see her face. She had dark, ink-black hair with brown highlights. "This is Julia."

"Hey." I took in her black skinny jeans, fitted purple top, and chain-link necklace. She seemed like the kind of girl who listened to punk and spent free period drawing on herself with Sharpie. But her tone wasn't hard at all and she actually smiled at us. (And not one of those icy fake smiles I've gotten so used to in the past couple of months.)

"This," Lacey pointed to a petit-looking brunette girl with glasses. "Is Issie."

Issie smiled shyly at us. "Hi."

"And this is Chrissie." She pointed to a slightly pale girl with dirty-blonde hair cut into a straight, somewhat sharp pageboy. She was moving pieces of her salad around with her fork.

"Nice to meet you."

"Same," I nodded.

"Where's Robin?" Bubbles asked. "Doesn't she usually sit with you guys?"

"I think she had a dentist appointment today or something," Chrissie said.

Lacey turned to me. "So when do you think we should get started on this project?"

"As soon as possible." I have this tendency to procrastinate (that, amazingly enough, doesn't hurt my grades in the least), which is why I like partner assignments since that means I have someone to keep me on track usually. Unless it's one of the guys, in which case, as long as I look my cutest, their happy to do all the work just to sit next to me.

"My thoughts exactly." She nodded. "Let me warn you, my parents probably already know about this so we're gonna need some kind of start soon."

"How would they know already?"

"They're teacher blog followers. It's sad, really. But it does do wonders for my grades. I haven't turned in a late assignment in three years."

"Wow." Sounds like she's got seriously high expectations. _I hope she's not like Blossom. Please don't let her be like Blossom._ "So what days work for you?"

"Well, Tuesdays and Thursdays won't do. I have dance lessons."

"Oh! Don't you do ballet?" Bubbles cried. "I heard your really good."

Lacey blushed at ducked her head. "O-Oh, I'm not that great."

"Please." Julia elbowed her. "She played a lead role in a performance in New York! She's practically famous!"

"Julia!" Lacey hissed, appalled. She turned to me and Bubbles, apologetic. "Ignore her. It's no big deal. Really. But anyway, how about we get together tomorrow and get the general plans together. You know, the supplies we'll need, the outline..."

"Where at?"

"My house. If you can."

"Sure." I'm not entirely sure if I can yet. As much as it kills my pride, I'm going to have to ask Blossom for _permission_. They might as well put me on a leash. "What time?"

"Right after school. We can walk. Or fly, in your case." She smiled.

"What are you guys supposed to be working on?" Issie asked. She has this soft, kind of slow voice that makes it hard for you to hear what she's saying.

"Just some big biology thing on some animal," Julia said. I assumed Lacey had already filled them in. "The curse of being in an AP class."

"What animal are you guys doing?" Bubbles yanked on my arm excitedly. "A cat? Turtle? Whale? If it's a squirrel I can totally help!"

I laughed. "Actually, we're doing a swan."

"Cute!"

"And elegant," Lacey added. "We're going to get an egg and incubator for a real-life experimentation. Most kids are doing things like pets. You know, hamsters, cats, dogs. It's way cooler if you get to work with real animals. If you do something wild or exotic there's way more bookwork to do. Less hands-on stuff."

For the record, the idea of getting 'hands-on' with any kind of live animal sort of...bothers me. I mean, I love the cute little moppets like bunnies and kitties as much as any other girl. But unlike most girls, I take into account that these things shed and smell weird and require...cleanup. _Ugh_.

"Hey, check it out!" Julia sat up in her seat and pointed towards the back of the cafe where the smokers and stoners usually sat. "Awesome! Someone's getting pounded!"

I stood up and Bubbles did the same. The buzz dulled around us, then turned to shouts, all converging towards the back of the cafeteria. Kids were shouting, and at this point, everyone was trying to get a better look. Immediately, I sensed that this wasn't just any fight. The students kept a pretty wide distance from whoever it was, and none of the lunchroom monitors had intervened. They all remained rooted in their spots against the wall without any indication of moving.

"YOU BASTARD!!" Oh, _crap_. I know that voice too well.

Sure enough, I saw Blossom pushing her way to the front of the crowd. I grabbed Bubbles's arm. "Let's go." People made way for us as we went directly towards the source. I could already here screams and grunts and one was definitely male. _This is sooo not good._ I saw Blossom's red hair and immediately went for her, pulling Bubbles behind me.

"Oh, man." Bubbles gasped behind me.

Buttercup was covered in some sort of red liquid and crumbs, rolling across the floor with some dark-haired guy who, judging by the fact that he wasn't dead yet, must've been Butch. He's hair and shirt were stained with something white that _definitely_ wasn't milk. Buttercup's hands were around his neck while he dug the heels of his hands into her shoulders. He threw his leg over her, tipping her over, and climbed on top of her. Her hands squeezed tighter around his neck and I could see tiny dots of blood where her nails had dug in.

"C'mon girls, we better stop her before this gets any worse." Blossom sounded completely worn out. I bet dealing with Brick takes a lot out of her. "Bell, you get Butch off her. Bubbles and I will hold her back."

Sure. Give me the hard job.

Well, not really. One nice solid kick to the side sent Butch flying into the wall. Buttercup looked shocked and irritated with her lack of someone to strangle. Blossom took advantage of that, grabbing her by the elbow and bringing both arms behind her back, at which point she started screaming again, lunging for Butch who was sitting against the wall, rubbing his head. "Lemme go! I'LL KILL HIM!!!"

Butch sneered at her. "Right. Which is why you called for back up." His neck was one big purple bruise. There were red nail marks all along the sides of his neck and a long, thin scrape running from his neck to just under his collar. I watched as it bled slightly, lessening and healing itself right before my eyes.

"Let! Me! GO!" Buttercup shouted again. "I'm not finished with him yet!"

"Yes," Blossom said firmly. "you are." She struggled to keep her grip on her as Buttercup leaned forward, her eyes set firmly on her prey. Bubbles grabbed ahold of her waist.

I, on the other hand, didn't dare touch her. I'm sure I could've restrained her better than Blossom and Bubbles combined, but I also know for a fact just how she'd respond to that. She hadn't so much as looked at Blossom or Bubbles, but I knew the minute I laid a hand on her I'd become her next target.

And that's _so_ not what we need right now.

"What the hell do you call yourself doing?" _Brick_. I turned to see him step out of the crowd, followed by Boomer who was grinning like a maniac. He took one look at Butch and burst out laughing. This is unusual. I hadn't thought of it before, but I usually don't see the boys in the cafeteria at all. Though I suppose this may very well be why. "Get up." Everyone had quieted down and now stood watching. Brick had a way of commanding people's attention like that.

Butch grunted and stood up, leaning slightly to one side.

"I asked you a question. What the hell did you think you were doing?"

Rolling his eyes, Butch shrugged, not offering any kind of explanation. (But I'm sure we'd hear Buttercup's side of things soon enough.)

Boomer grinned wider. "It looked to me like he was getting his ass kicked."

"And who the hell asked _you_?" Butch growled. He took a step towards Boomer, but Brick blocked his path. He grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him towards the door. Brick said something in Butch's ear that made him tense. Then they were gone. The lunchroom monitors suddenly realized they had jobs and sent the students away. Lunch was over anyway.

Suddenly, it was just me and the girls.

And Boomer. "Sorry about him. I'd say he wasn't always like that but...ya know. He kinda is." He flashed us another thousand-watt smile, his eyes landing directly on Bubbles. "See ya."

Then he was gone too.

"Well," Blossom droned, releasing Buttercup. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Buttercup grunted, "It wasn't my fault."

"Right. Butch was obviously fighting himself. You just happened to be in the middle of it." Blossom stood in her classic I'm-so-clearly-in-charge-here stance, hands on her hips, head raised slightly, appraising Buttercup with a disgusted look on her face. "And just _what_ are you covered in?"

Buttercup's dark hair was wet, matted, and covered in crumbs, as was the rest of her. A limb piece of lettuce clung to her shirt. Her sleeve was torn at the shoulder and hung off her slightly. She looked..._grubby_. "It's tomato soup. That...that..._brainless shitbag_," she spat, as disgusted with him as Blossom was with her appearance. "he's been irritating the crap out of me all day! When I finally told him to fuck off he dumped this crap on me!"

"Language," Blossom chastised. "And you think _this_ is the acceptable way of dealing with him?"

"He started--"

"Buttercup! I don't want to hear that. That's a childish excuse. You need to start taking responsibility for your actions."

"And what about him?!" she seethed. "Who's going to make _him _take responsibility for _his_ actions?!"

"I'm sure he's being punished, but even if he's not, that's none of our business or concern."

Bubbles and I stood awkwardly to the side. Watching. Buttercup and Blossom fight with each other almost as much as I fight with either of them. But even in the most heated of arguments, Blossom rarely shows signs of losing her cool (unlike Buttercup who will do everything within her power to demonstrate how pissed she is). Her fights with Brick are the most emotion I've ever seen her show in an argument.

"You know your way to the office," Blossom finalized, switching from her hands-on-hips position to arms-crossed-impatiently-over-chest. "I suggest you get going before they call you down."

"Wait." Bubbles reached out to touch Buttercup's arm lightly as she stormed by. "You can't go like that," she said, gesturing to her food-splattered outfit. "I have some extra clothes in my locker. But, um, only a skirt and a t-shirt."

Buttercup scowled, snatching her arm away. "Forget it. I'd rather go like this."

"Buttercup..." Blossom narrowed her eyes in a warning.

Apparently tired with pushing everyone's limits, she relented. "What kind of skirt?"

Bubbles smiled sheepishsly. "A mini." Buttercup groaned again.

Oh, God...I really shouldn't. "Um, I have a pair of jeans in my locker. You can borrow them if you want." I shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. She froze for a second, and I actually thought she might take me up on that. Before she turned on her heal, striding towards the door.

"C'mon Bubbles. Let's go get your stuff." She left without waiting for a response. Bubbles took a step towards her, then turned back to me, torn. I tried to smile for her and rolled my eyes playfully, motioning for her to go on. She cast me one last apologetic glance over her shoulder and left.

Then it was me and Red.

She was giving a deliberating look, trying to decide whether or not I was worth consoling, I guess. "She needs some time to cool off," she said matter-of-factly. I'm sure this explanation was meant to make me feel better. I mean, so what if she barely acknowledges my existence? She just needs some time to cool off, right? It's only been over two months. She'll be fine.

NOT. "Whatever. Her loss." I tossed my hair and lifted my head, making my exit. That's the only key. Don't show a reaction. Don't show real emotion. Don't let your guard down. Be as apathetic as humanly possible. I may not be able to adopt Buttercup's _Piss off_ attitude, but sticking with my _Who cares?_ version is every bit as good. If I'm going to survive whatever trial Blossom's putting me through, I'm going to do it with my dignity intact.

* * *

**From Chex: **I finally managed to meet my quota. :) Predictably enough, the next chapter will be in Buttercup's POV. I've been getting some very good reviews lately, so thank you. And this chapter hereby meets my other quota of two updates per month. Send feedback.


	12. Buttercup 2

**From Chex: **As promised, this chapter will be in Buttercup's POV. I was considering doing Blaze's this chapter, to be truthful. (And I'd love to do Bell and Blaze back-to-back.) But some of the things planned for Blaze's chapter occur after this one, so bear with me.

* * *

_Shit_. This is not good.

I yanked down the hem of Bubbles's stupid grey jean miniskirt. How the hell does she wear these things? I feel half-naked. And this t-shirt is way too small for me. It's too tight across my chest and my stomach shows if I lift my arms even an inch from my sides. And if this all wasn't enough, Blondie insisted I rinse the soup out of my hair in the bathroom, so it's still damp.

In other words, I look like an idiot.

"Damn skirt...damn Butch..." I gritted my teeth together, leaning against the wall outside of Principal Rugman's office. He's in there already. I know it. I should just get out of here. Go straight home. It's not like anyone could really stop me. And I swear if I go in there I'll end up finishing what we started in the cafeteria...

"_**Buttercup Utonium please report to the principal's office. **_**Now**_**.**_" Fourth announcement already.

I pulled down the skirt one more time and threw the door open.

Over the past couple years, not to mention the past two months, I've become very familiar with Rugman's office. First off, it's bare. As in, no pictures on the wall, other than his diploma, no plants, no signs of any kind of life outside of this school. It's like a holding cell or something. There are two chairs and a desk so large you'd think he was the flippin' President. I guess it makes him feel big. I imagine only a few things could do that for a short, balding guy with buttons for eyes.

"Butter--Buttercup," Rugman stared at me, button-eyes wide, cleared his throat, and motioned for me to sit down. "We've been waiting for you."

I threw myself into the only unoccupied chair. "So lets get on with this."

"Yes, well, where do you propose we start? The reckless violence? Creating a mess of the cafeteria?" Aaaand he was off. Classic strategy. Lecture for about seven minutes to make the victim feel thoroughly 'guilty', ask them what they think their punishment should be, don't wait for them to answer, suggest a punishment, enforce that punishment, dismiss them, and repeat the cycle over for the next victim.

_Quit staring at me._

That jackass! He doesn't have the right to look in my direction.

_What the fuck are you looking at?!_

Rugman, for dramatic purposes, had started pacing around the room, settling in front of his window and speaking loudly and emphasizing every other word he said. I turned on Butch. "_What_?"

He wasn't looking at me, exactly. He was staring at my legs. Freakin' pervert. Then he looked up at my face and sneered. "So _that's_ how you plan to get out of this? I gotta say, I didn't think you'd go so...raunchy."

"Wha-ah..._what?_" Oh, he is not saying what I think he's saying. "Are you kidding me? You know, _you're_ the reason why I'm wearing this get-up." He rose one eyebrow at me and it took me a minute to realize what he was thinking. "And that's _not_ what I meant! If you hadn't dumped that crap on me--"

"Excuse me! Is there something so important you two need to discuss it privately?" Rugman asked, squinting his little eyes at us. If he honestly thinks leaving us alone will result in anything other than death, than his mind must've left with his hair. I slouched down in my chair, and rolled my eyes. He got red-faced and turned around again, clearing his throat repeatedly. "N-Now...where was I?" And he was off again.

Butch shook his head at me. "Un-freakin'-believeable."

"What did I just--"

"You don't have to explain it to me," he said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "But most girls I know don't sit like _that_ unless they want something."

I looked down at myself and, horrifically enough, felt my face heat up. (For the record, I do NOT blush. _Ever_. Not under any circumstances.) Okay, honestly, I'm not at all used to wearing these things. But apparently slouching equals flashing. I'd thrown my arm over the back of the chair and my shirt had rose up four inches to show off my bare stomach. I sat up straighter and pulled my legs together, yanking down the tee. Damn Bubbles and her stupid miniskirts.

"So after much thought and consideration--"

Butch exploded. "For the love of God, get the hell on with it! How long do we have detention?" Seriously. Not that I'd rather be in class, but listening to Rugman rant is about as fun as watching paint dry.

"Detention," Rugman said. "we've tried. Detention...has failed."

"...What?"

"No detention."

No way. "Are you serious? We're not in trouble?"

"Now I didn't say that." Damn. "Quite the contrary. You two are in a world of trouble. But this time I've thought up a punishment better suited for the both of you. Since detention hasn't taught either of you anything at all, I've found a punishment that will teach you responsibility and cooperation skills. A punishment, I believe, we'll all benefit from. A punishment that should put an end to this reckless behavior."

"Dude. Just tell us what it is already," I sighed, tilting my head back and closing my eyes.

"Until further notice, you two will be handling all kinds of new tasks designed to teach you how to be responsible and, hopefully, how to get along with each other." I snorted. Like that'll ever happen. "Your tasks will range from cleaning assignments to organizing projects and school events. And of course there will be repercussions if you fail to complete them."

He pulled out a drawer and sat a large fat folder on his desk. He pulled out two peices of paper and handed them to us. They were lists.

I frowned. "Organize books in the library; read the morning announcements; make preparations for the Snow Ball? That's in two weeks, isn't it? You've gotta be kidding me!"

"I most certainly am not."

"Don't you have a Dance Committee or some shit to take care of this stuff?" Butch asked.

"Mind your tongue young man. And as of now, you two _are _the Dance Committee. Dismissed."

"But--"

"Dismissed."

And as of now, Rugman is officially the world's _second _biggest ass.

--

"_You're organizing the Snow Ball_?!"

"Yes, Bubbles. I'm pretty sure I made that clear." I knew I shouldn't have told her. She's getting all frantic and jumpy. "It's no big deal. We get a few CDs, blow up some balloons, and there ya have it." I scarfed down a bag of BBQ chips. It's Bell's turn to cook so obviously my appetite needs to be ruined. Immediately.

Bubbles hugged one of the couch cushions. "Oh no. Oh no no no no no. Buttercup, _please_. You can't ruin this. All my friends are going to this dance."

"And I should care because...?"

"Buttercup!"

God, I hate it when she whines. "Gimme a break, Bubbles. I think we both know I could care less about your stupid friends and what they want." This is so unbelievably lame. Not only do I have to plan the world's crappiest dance (I mean, really. The Snow Ball? That's the best name they could come up with?), but I have to do it with _him_. God, this sucks.

"They're not stupid. And you won't just be ruining the dance for them. You'll be ruining it for _everyone_."

"And again, I should care because...?"

"Ugh!"

"Mashed potatoes and tacos!" We both turned to see Bell's little green headache standing in the doorway. It was holding a big spoon and wearing a fluffy white hat that said: **Chef BoyI'mYummy** in squiggly handwriting. It waved the spoon at us and ran back into the kitchen. Stupid dog-thing.

Bubbles snatched the chips from me and went into the kitchen. "We're having mashed potatoes and tacos?"

"No," I heard Bell answer. "I made lasagna. There's a special veggie dish for you too. DINNER'S READY!!"

"Not hungry," I yelled as soon as the Professor came within earshot. He shot me his Parental Look. I shrugged as innocently as possible.

"Buttercup..."

I groaned and got up before he could launch into his _I Don't Know Why You Feel You Need to Alienate Her_ speech. He's worse than Bubbles, I swear. And I'm probably in enough trouble as it is. This would be _the_ worst time to get grounded. Me, Mitch, and the guys are supposed to check out the new club, _Level X_, tonight. And I have to say, if superpowers are good for anything, it's sneaking into just about anywhere. The standard plan is to take Mitch's truck there, since my flying tends to leave a trail, and get everyone up to the roof. Almost every building in the city has an entrance through the roof, so an entrance is the least complicated part of the night. Bars are another story, but we'll just have to see what the bartenders are like. Most don't care if you look legal enough, but there are a few places that card.

Naturally, I'm not allowed to do any of this. So, grounded or not, I'd be sneaking out. But when I'm grounded the Professor always watches me more closely and, sometimes in extreme cases, he puts on the sensors. They're built into the house kind of like an alarm system. If the Professor activates them, they set themselves on at curfew. If any door or window is opened between 10PM and 6AM they go off. Loudly.

And I have a feeling my fight with Butch would qualify as an extreme case.

"Well, doesn't this look delicious," the Professor said, taking a seat at the head of the table. A plate of steaming lasagna and a bowl of salad was at every seat, as well as on the floor near the refrigerator where Bell was kneeling. She was tying a napkin around the dog's neck. He only ever eats like this when she and Bubbles cook.

"Where my spoooon?"

"You don't need a spoon for lasagna," Bell said, standing up and brushing herself off. "Don't make a mess. Use the fork."

It took out the largest lettuce leaf it could find, put some lasagna on it, and folded the leaf in half. "TACO!!"

I took a seat in front of the plate with the smallest serving. I refuse to eat anything _she's_ touched. Period. "I'm sick of Italian food. We just had spaghetti the other night."

"Well, that's fine. Tomorrow you're cooking and you can have whatever you want," the Professor said sternly, fixing me with the look again.

Bubbles frowned at her plate. She looked at Bell skeptically. "I thought you said...?"

"Yours is veggie lasagna."

"Oh!"

The Professor looked over at the seat at the opposite end of the table where Blossom usually sits. "Where's--"

"I'm here!" Princess Pink announced, marching into the room like she owned the place. She dropped into her seat and sighed, her eyebrows knitted together. "Sorry, I was studying. This has been by far the worst day I've had in awhile. Just so you know, Professor, I was cursed with Brick as my partner for a very important project in Biology. So, unfortunately, that means he may have to come over here a few times a week." And then she launched into her rant about why this was The Worst Thing to Ever Happen to Her. But I can't say I feel sorry for her. At least I'm not the only one stuck with a Ruff until further notice.

Blossom proceeded to dominate the entire conversation, switching from ranting about Brick's "unacceptable behaviour" to outlining every detail of her project. The Professor followed her easily, both of them going on about scientific mumbo jumbo. I think he was just glad this wasn't going to be another awkward dinner like so many others have been lately.

"Covering brain activity would be an excellent way to get extra credit."

Blossom's eyes lit up in that nerdy _I'm Going to Excel! Yay School!_ way. "Could I use the monitor in the lab?"

"I don't see why not."

Her face lit up...and then dropped. "Oh. But...I'm not sure it's a good idea to have Brick in the lab. We wouldn't want him to see any of your new inventions."

The Professor shook his head. "Blossom, if you two are working together you're going to need to give him the benefit of the doubt. People can change." He looked meaningfully at Bell as he said this. She wasn't paying the least bit of attention, but Blossom's expression became guarded. I'm pretty sure we were thinking generally the same thing: _That's a load of bull._

"Hey, Professor," Bell said quietly. "I was partnered with Lacey McHenry for the same project. It's okay if I go to her house tomorrow after school to work on it, right?" She started twirling her hair. I hate the way she does that. It's so obvious the way she puts on that _I'm Such an Angel_ act for the Professor. God, it makes me want to puke.

Blossom glared daggers at her, but the Professor was oblivious. Like he is to just about everything about her. "That's fine. You'll be back in time for dinner?"

"Probably."

Dinner lapsed back into silence. Everyone looking mostly satisfied. Bubbles was unusually quiet, but hey. It beat having to listen to her drone about her cheerhead friends and whatever stupid routine they were working on now.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

It was Mitch. **U BUSTED YET??**

I glanced back up. Blossom was frowning at me. The little narc probably couldn't wait for the Professor to get in on me. Honestly, I'm surprised he hasn't yet. But Rugman must've called. Rugman _always_ calls.

I looked back down at the screen. **NOT YET**

"Buttercup," the Professor said. My head snapped up. _Here it comes_... "No phones out at the table." I waited for the rest, a tired lecture about "being the bigger person" and "turning the other cheek" and all that other crap.

Nothing. My phone vibbed again but I ignored it.

"So how was school?"

Was that a trick question? "Eh...you know." _You _do_ know...don't you?_

"That's good." He pushed his plate away. "Well, I've got some cleaning up to do if you girls are going to be using the lab. I'd better get started." I stared, shocked, as we cleared his plate and then...he...he...

He left. He _left_. Went right back down to the lab without another word.

Blossom, Bubbles, and Bell were all staring at me, wide-eyed and confused.

What the hell just happened?

Blossom stood up. "Principal Rugman will definitely call by tomorrow. Or maybe even later tonight." She glared at me. "He'll find out." And then it hit me.

He doesn't know.

_Oh my God! Oh my God! OH MY GOD!!_

I snatched my phone back out of my pocket and raced upstairs to my room before Blossom could start to hang anything over my head. I slammed the door shut and threw myself on my un-made bed, letting it all sink in. He doesn't know. Principal Rugman didn't call. I'm not in trouble! I looked at my screen. _1_ _New Message_.

**SO R WE STILL ON 4 LVL X?**

I grinned. **HELL YEA!**

It was a second before my phone trilled again. **AWESOME BUT LUKE'S BRINGIN TRACEE SO TRY NOT 2 KILL HER**

I frowned. Luke brings a different girl every single week. Or at least he did until he met Bitchy. She's lasted two weeks, God knows why. She comes with us to _Roxxi's, _my favorite club, solely for the purpose of hooking up with _other _guys, the friggin' cum dumpster. But that's a record for any girl I've ever seen Luke with.

Not that I really give a damn if she's his girl or not. If she calls me gay again, in any way, shape, or form, she'll be his _cripple_.

**SHE SHUD TRY HARDER NOT 2 GET KILLED!**

**C'MON GIVE HER A SHOT**

I snorted. **THOUGHT THAT WAS LUKE'S JOB**

He ignored that one. **SHE DIDN'T EVEN RLLY CALL YOU GAY **OK, if he wants to be technical about it. But what the hell did he think she meant by "It's ok if you wanna bring your girlfriend, Buttercup. We won't judge you." Which she said, totally out of the blue, twirling her hair and giving me this pathetically fake sympathetic look.

To which I responded: "I don't _have_ a girlfriend, and neither will Luke if you don't shut your mouth."

And she said: "Sor-_ry_! I just figured, ya know, since you never bring a date or hook up with any guys once we get there that you, ya know, have different interests." And after subtly pointing out to her that worrying about my "interests" wasn't in the best interest of her health, I went through the trouble of _not_blowing off every skeeve who came my way. I go to _Roxxi's_ for the music, the drinks, and just to hang out. If I wanted to get laid by some greasy loser I'd stand on a street corner in my underwear. _That_ is the way of a professional slut.

Apparently Mitch thought I was ignoring him since I hadn't responded to that last lie he sent me. **U ONLY HAVE TO PUT UP WITH HER 4 THE RIDE**

**OR I CUD BLOW U LOSERS OFF N GO BY MYSELF**

I could practically see him laughing and sighing at the same time. **U WONT THO **Which was true. Even if we end up doing our own thing once we get there, it's more fun with the guys. (And that has nothing to do with the fact that I've never gone alone.) Dave and Spark, our resident clown-offs, always end up getting drunk and puking on someone. Or each other. And who would want to miss that? Still, it kind of ticks me off that Mitch _knows_ I wouldn't go alone. I really don't need him as much as he thinks I do.

**DONT B SO SURE**

* * *

**From Chex: **Done, thank God. For some reason, I'm never really sure about Buttercup's chapters. I hope I'm capturing her personality well enough. Please tell me if I'm not and I'll do my best to improve. Next chapter will be from Blaze's POV finally.

(-edited as of 1-1-10-)


	13. Blaze 2

**From Chex: **I'm happy to bring you chapter 13. And we're finally getting back to Blaze's POV. I know it's been a while. Now this chapter will answer all the 'Where has he been until now?' and 'When's he going to meet Bell?' questions. And also, **I edited the last chapter, so you all might want to go back and skip to the end. There's more.**

* * *

Okay. I haven't been around that long, I'll admit that much. I've been on the planet now for less than twenty-four hours, and I've never even left this so-called house. But even still, I can think of at least ten places I'd rather be right now than sitting on this cold-ass table with these wires sticking out of my chest. "Are we just about done here?"

"_**Patience my child. We just need to run a feeeew moooore teeeeest,**_" It droned in the world's most annoying sing-song voice. God, if there is anything gayer on the planet please don't let me have to see it.

Admittedly, not all of today has sucked quite as much as it does now. This morning I got to blast through metal and concrete so these freaks could measure my energy levels. And, really, who doesn't like blowing crap up? But then blasting turned into running, and running turned into weight-lifting, and that turned into examining individual strands of my hair, and....

Basically, I'm bored out of my freakin' mind.

I ripped the medical tape and wires off my chest. "I'm going to get a drink."

The monkey shrieked, "What are you doing?! You just disrupted my test!"

"_**He's a growing boy, Mojo. He needs to keep his energy up.**_"

"We'll have to start all over!"

I rolled my eyes, already out of the room and heading for the kitchen. They argue like the world's weirdest, gayest, married couple. I've been listening to them debate all day. And the worst part of it is that they always look like they're on the verge of a violent make-out session.

And thinking _that_ has pretty much ruined my appetite. But its not like they have any food here anyway. Their fridge consists of mold, beer, moldy leftovers, expired condiments, more mold...and something hairy that may very well have been alive recently.

I'm gonna have to do _something_ if I have to spend the rest of who-knows how long in this dump. First of which would be to get some decent food. Second of all, I'm gonna need my own room because I swear to whatever God there is, I will _not _spend another night on the floor in Boomer's room. I had the option, courtesy of Brick, of choosing between Boomer and Butch's rooms. Which, along with the fact that all I'd seen of his room thus far was the door, told me a hell of a lot about the guy.

Boomer was happy to share. Butch said I could have his floor, assuming I could find it. And at least I could see more carpet than crap in Boomer's room.

But it's not like I slept anyway. The combination of Boomer and Butch snoring could wake the dead in China. I did find some..._interesting_ magazines under the bed though, which distracted me well enough.

Brick's room would've been better though. It's spotless. Literally. I freakin' black-lighted the place, which is apparently a brand of my many visions (x-ray, laser, night, etc.), and it's _sterile_. But depressingly boring and, well, plain. There's a bookshelf that reaches the wall and, not joking, a _file cabinet_. There's a bed with a blood-red comforter, a desk with a laptop, a lamp, and a window with drawn black curtains. That's it. Honestly.

And of course I know all this because I snuck in there today. Checked under the bed and everything. I briefly considered picking the lock on the file cabinet, but then I realized how much I don't care what's in there. Probably a photo-collage of the rest of the girls in this town.

I heard their voices before I heard the door open.

"Shut-up, blonde-ass."

A laugh. "You brought it on yourself."

"I was just doing what Brick said."

"Right. 'Cause I definitely remember him telling us do dump our lunches on the girls. Think I'll get in trouble for not listening?" There was a crack, the sound of something breaking and a groan.

I stepped into the living room. Two bags were laying by the door. The coffee table (broken) had tipped forward, spilling cans and magazines on the floor. Butch was holding one of the table legs like a damn spear and Boomer was rubbing his head.

Which is pretty much a routine I'm getting used to. The breaking and pounding. It's fun to watch sometimes.

"Having fun?"

Butch looked up. "Oh. Hey." He tossed the stick away.

"Just so you know, I think I should disown myself from this so-called family. This is abuse."

Boomer blinked. "What are you talking about?"

I glared hard at both of them. "You left me here alone for _nine hours_ with _those_." I pointed in the direction of the lab. From the sound of things, Him and Mojo were still going at it.

Boomer laughed. "Sorry, dude. Brick's orders." Like so many other things around here.

Apparently my big assignment is to "avoid being seen by anyone at _all costs_." It's vital that no one knows I exist so that means, according to Brick, I shouldn't leave the house under any circumstances. If anyone sees me, it could ruin a very important future step in this "fan-freakin'-tastic" plan. But if you ask me, why the hell did they bring me up _now_? Why not wait until they get to this step?

"Dude, you need to get ready. We're going out tonight," Butch said.

I looked at him. He looked at me. Going out? In blatant disregard of everything I was told _not_ to do just yesterday by the guy who's obviously in-charge around here?

_That _sounds like fun. I don't know what it is, but there' something about Brick that just makes me want to irritate him. Speaking of which... "So where is Red?"

Butch shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me. Probably running whatever errands are on his hidden agenda. I swear, as much as he tells us, he could be married and have kids somewhere." I doubt that last part, but it does sound like Brick.

"So where are we going?"

"There's a new club opening up downtown tonight. Figured we check it out, pick up some chicks, have a few drinks, beat the crap out of random idiots. You in?"

"As much fun as that sounds," And it does sound kinda cool. "where were _you_ during the whole, 'the success of this mission is riding on you' speech?"

"Don't worry about that. We got it covered. We got you some stuff." He shoved Boomer of the couch. Blondie glared at him, then went to grab one of the bags by the door. He reached inside, pulled out a plastic bag and tossed it to me. Inside was a box and a small case of....

They can't be serious. "Hair dye and contacts? You're joking, right?"

Butch grinned. "You wish."

--

I stared into the mirror Butch pulled off the bathroom wall. "Blonde with green eyes?" They are just _so_ imaginative. I glanced at them. Butch shrugged and Boomer grinned sheepishly.

"I, uh, figured blonde would be easier to wash out." Which is true, but I'm sure that's not what he was thinking when he bought it.

"Uh-huh." I turned to Butch, waiting for his explanation. "And I suppose green contacts are easier to take out or something?"

He shrugged again. "Green eyes are sexy. You'll thank me later."

Doubtful. I'm sexy as is. But even though I might as well be a completely different person, I do look pretty damn hot. I had to borrow the clothes since I don't exactly have my own wardrobe yet.(Another thing we need to fix around here.) I had on some dark-blue jeans (borrowed from Boomer), a white shirt with vertical black stripes and some kind of silvering (also Boomer's, but I think I'll keep it), and black leather jacket (Butch's). Not quite my style, but it'll have to do for now.

"So how exactly are we getting there?" I'm pretty sure flying would be a no-no since it leaves a trail.

Butch looked at me like I'd just punched him in the gut: A combination of anger and shock, but mostly shock. "Dude! Did you not see the fuckin' Karma downstairs? You know, the badass motherfucker with my _name _on it?" Then he went into a rant about how he saw it online and jacked the first one he saw right off the rode. Boomer shook his head at me sadly, mouthing: _You __**had**__ to get him started!_ I rolled my eyes, waiting for Butch to get it out of his system. "--And they didn't even _have_ that color! That color didn't _exist_ until I made them make it! How the fuck did you miss that?!"

I sighed and said very slowly, "I haven't gone outside. _Ever_."

He blinked. "Oh. Well, it's hot shit. That's all I'm sayin'."

And it was, I'll give him that much. Dark, dark silver, almost black Karma, with _Butch _emblazoned across the driver's side in a green so bright it was practically neon. The liscense plate artfully read _HELLZRDE_. Butch sighed when he saw it. "Now tell me she doesn't kick ass. Can reach like 100mph in ten seconds."

I agreed, "She kicks ass, man. Shotgun."

"Damn," Boomer muttered.

We all climbed in. I honestly expected the inside to be a cramped version of his room, but apparently he loves this car more than anything in the house because it's as spotless as Brick's room. The interior was a cool tan leather that didn't even show any wrinkles in it. As soon as I sat down, Butch turned to me with this dictational look in his eyes.

"OK, as of right now, we need to make something very clear. I am willing to kill anyone who so much as looks at this car too hard. You may be my brother, but I'd kill you for her." I would've laughed if he didn't look so damn deranged. I glanced back at Boomer.

"He's serious."

"Damn right I'm serious," Butch growled, speeding down the near empty streets. For someone who loves his car so damn much he doesn't seem that concerned about ramming into any of these buildings. "No eating, drinking, bleeding, or doing anything weird in my car. Don't even bring your bitches in here. I don't want it smellin' like perfume and make-up."

"We'll take our bitches elsewhere then," Boomer said, leaning back.

"Speaking of which," I turned to Boomer. "how about a bet?"

He grinned. "I'm listening."

"Whichever one of us hooks up with the most girls tonight gets the bed." He needs to know what its like to sleep on his on floor with his own crap.

He laughed. "You're own. You've never even _seen_ a real girl before."

"My money's on Blaze," Butch said.

Boomer frowned. "What? Why?"

"We talked about this. You've got girl problems," Butch turned to me with this wicked look in his eyes. "You think Bell's hot, right?"

"My counterpart?" I've only seen a candid of her, but she's sexy as hell. Which again explains why I look so damn good. "Hell yeah. Who wouldn't?" Butch nodded back at Boomer, who was looking up at the ceiling like _Not this again!_. I glared at him. "You don't think she's hot?" Not that I'm defending her personally, but saying she's not hot is like saying _I'm_ not hot. And _that_ I will take personally. "So are you blind or gay?" Butch cracked up and Boomer sighed, placing a hand over his eyes.

"I didn't say she wasn't hot! God! She's hot, OK? She's hotter than the friggin' sun in hell! OK?!" He fell back against the seat, pulling on his hair. Damn right she is.

"Get the hell out of my car," Butch said suddenly.

Boomer shot up. "What? What the hell did I do?!"

"Nothing, stupid. We're here." Butch cut the engine. We were parked along the curb across the street from what I assumed was the new club. An electric neon sign flashed _Level X_ over a two-story building. A line of what looked like about 40 people stood outside. Two bouncers in black manned the doorway.

"You got a way in? I'm not waiting in any line."

"Like hell." Butch turned on the car alarm and strode over to the end of the line. He slipped around the side of the building. We walked the perimeter until we reached the opposite wall. A rusted metal door labeled Employees ONLY stood out against the brick wall. Butch grabbed the lock and snapped it off. "Too easy."

The inside of the place was much more impressive. The walls were made of multi-colored neon blocks that produced the only light in the room, much better than strobe lighting. The bar was a circular island at the far side of the floor. There were a good few hundred people inside already and it was only a little passed eleven. The music was so loud you could feel it and the place had this sort of punk-techno vibe.

"Not bad."

A group of girls in matching tight black minidresses walked passed. Boomer caught my eye and grinned.

"Game on."

--

I pulled away from the fourth girl of the night. She fluttered her overly-made-up eyelashes at me and smiled coyly. I can honestly say I've known her for about twenty minutes now and at least fifteen of that was spent making out. There's a scientific method to getting girls in a place like this. The more make-up they have on, the less secure they are. Which means a few empty compliments and a smile is enough to get you pretty much where ever you want to go.

She hugged my torso. "How about another dance?" she asked in a slightly whiny voice.

_No thanks_. I got what I wanted, which was her phone number. Not that I'm gonna call her, but Boomer and I have to keep score somehow. "How about a drink instead?" I pulled away smoothly and gave her a smile that made her sigh so deeply I thought she might faint. "I'll be right back."

"Okay. I'll be waiting, Blake." Blake -- the brilliant alias Butch and Boomer gave me. I swear, there is no end to their inventiveness.

Time to find girl number five.

I slid back over to the bar. I can't even remember that girl's name, but she kissed better than number two. Number three's been the best so far.

I dropped onto one of the marble stools, ordering a Black Velvet. I could feel at least three girls staring at me. A blonde in a blue halter top winked at me from across the bar. To my right there were two girls who were whispering about me, assuming I couldn't hear. I could've laughed. It really can _not_ be this easy. It's only a matter of choosing who comes first...

"That's such a lame-ass excuse!"

"I don't hafta make excuses for you!"

I turned by head, scanning the room. Two girls were arguing, I knew that much. I'm not sure how I even picked it up in all the noise, but it caught my attention almost immediately.

_There._ Near the wall, almost directly across from me, there was a bleached-blond girl in spike heels, talking with her hands to a raven-haired girl who was lounging in a plush seat, expertly ignoring her.

"Fine. It's not like you could get a guy anyway," the blonde sneered and flipped her hair out, something I've seen a lot of girls do tonight.

"Isn't there a bus you need to throw yourself in front of? A guy you need to throw yourself at? A cliff you need to throw yourself _off_?" the other girl retorted, sipping what looked like a gimlet.

Well. This is interesting. I slid off my seat and made my way over. I didn't look directly at either of them, but pretended to try and walk past.

"_Heeey_." _Way too easy. _I turned around. The blonde came up to me, swaying what would've been her hips if she had any. She was bone thin. "Where are you running off to?" She asked, placing a glossy manicured nail on my chest.

I licked my lips. "Depends on who wants to know."

She fluttered her eyelashes. I don't know what it is with girls and this eyelash thing, but it's not really a turn-on for me. "Tracee," she said, in what I guess was supposed to be a sexy whisper. Not delivering.

"Blake." I deliberately looked past her at the raven-haired chick. I don't know why, but she seems really familiar. I have a feeling I should know who she is. "Who's your friend?"

Tracee scoffed. "_So _not my friend." Her hand slid up my chest to rest on my shoulder. She was standing as close to me as physically possible and yet I wasn't really all that into it. It might've had something to do with the fact that her chest was damn near non-existent and I could see the bones in her neck. (That's so gross.) But he friend seemed way more interesting. I need a challenge anyway.

I ducked away from Boney and moved closer to her not-friend. "Hey, how's it going?" She downed her drink and looked up, her bright green eyes lit like flames. It hit me then. _Damn! _I should've recognized her. She looks just like him. The hair, green eyes, attitude...Damn!

If there is anyone, _anyone _I should've avoided, it's her. And what the hell is she doing here? I could've sworn Brick said the Puffs were prissy do-gooders. Why would she be drinking in a club downtown?

I would've left then...if I hadn't remembered that she doesn't know me. And I'm in disguise. And there's no way in hell she could ever make any kind of important connections since she doesn't have a clue that I even exist.

So no harm done.

She looked like she was about to blow me off, but her eyes slid past me to Tracee and she smirked. "Better now."

I took a seat next to her and Boney stormed off in a huff. I know the only reason she's even talking to me is because I just caught her after that fight. But whatever. "Good to know I'm improving your day. So what's with...?" I jerked my head in the direction Boney just left in.

She snorted. "Nothing out of the ordinary. She's a natural born bitch. Hopefully she's taking my advice and going to throw herself somewhere."

I laughed. "So what's your name?"

"Yours first."

"Blake."

"Buttercup." I know.

"You seem like this place is boring the hell out of you." Or maybe she's just pissed. Bored and pissed are pretty much the same expression for Butch. Maybe it's the same with her.

"I've seen better. _Roxxi's _kicks this place's ass." She crossed her legs and I took a minute to check her out. The picture I saw was only a headshot. But she definitely resembles Butch in that natural-born athlete sort of way. Her arms and legs were toned, but not overly sculpted and her chest was bigger than I would've guessed. Her bangs cut across one side of her face, covering one eye when she tilted her head to the side. It made her look slightly more intimidating. She had on a pair of tight black jeans, a black tube top with a yellow lightning bolt down the front that rose up slightly to reveal a belly-button ring, a silver choker and matching wrist-cuffs.

"You done surveying?" My eyes snapped back up to her face. Her eyes were narrowed. She probably expected me to blush or something.

I smirked. "Yeah. And you pass the first part of my test."

"Oh, really? And what's the second part?"

I placed my hand on her thigh and leaned closer, "An oral exam." I waited to see how she'd take that. She hesitated. I can say for certain that she would've kicked my boys if she wasn't clearly hung up on the Tracee debate. Clearly I was a her way of proving she could get a guy if she wanted to. And I might've cared more if I wasn't trying to win a bet.

Apparently she'd made up her mind because instead of the kick I was bracing myself for, her lips crushed against mine and she pulled me on top of her. And she didn't tease either.

My hands slid down to her waist, my fingers creeping underneath her shirt. Her arms were hooked around my neck. Her tongue licked at my lips and I let her in. She tasted like lime. I pressed her harder against the seat, making her moan. She wasn't soft like the other girls. She pushed me back against the other end, never moving away. Her tongue ravaged my mouth, fighting furiously with mine. There was nothing soft and gentle about this. Clearly she thought she was in charge. And I can't say I minded all that much. She's easily the best I've had so far.

My new Nokia trilled in my pocket. I ignored it and and so did she at first. Then she suddenly ripped herself away from me. She stared at me and blinked, looking surprised. Then she pointed to my pocket. "You might wanna get that," she said, breathless.

I groaned and reached inside. I just got the stupid phone yesterday. Only three people have the number and I'm going to beat the crap out of whichever one interrupted me.

It was a text message. **WHAT THE HELL R U DOIN?!!?!?** Damn Butch. I scanned the crowed and found him just as easily as he probably found me. He was staring at us, his eyes wide and mouth open, like I'd grown six heads.

I turned away before Buttercup saw him too. "Sorry, gorgeous. But I think I have to go. I came here with some friends."

She rolled her eyes, moving away from me. "I know what that means."

I laughed. "I bet you think you do. But how about you give me your number? Maybe next time you can show me how much better _Roxxi's_ is."

She smirked at me. "Love to, but I have to go too. I didn't come alone either. Later." And she was gone. It took me a minute to realize what had happened, and then I shook my head. She's something else. But it's probably better she didn't take this any more seriously than I did. And since Butch is a witness I guess I don't really need her number.

He was still standing in that same spot when I came up to him. "I'm assuming you must have a damn good reason for that." He just gaped at me.

"Y-You...she..._what the hell_?!"

"Yeah, that's pretty much what your text said."

"What WAS that?! Why were you two making out?! She's **gay**!" he cried.

What kind of stupidity _is_ that? "Clearly she's not. And if she was then I just converted her."

"Do you know who that _was_?! That was Buttercup! That was Powerpuff spit you were sucking!"

"Jealous?"

He said something else that I doubt was English and grabbed me by the arm. "C'mon! We're getting Boomer and getting out of here!"

Boomer was at the bar, holding a little blonde bimbo in his lap, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. Well, what do you know. It's Boney. Butch went up and punched him in the arm. Boomer looked up at him, annoyed. "What?"

"We're leaving. Now." Butch didn't stop to wait for a response. He headed straight for the exit. Boomer looked at me and I just shrugged. He groaned and got up, making Tracee fall on her ass. She squeaked in protest, but Boomer didn't even glance back at her as we went to catch up with Butch.

"Why are we leaving?"

"Butch caught me making out with his assignment and he got all jealous."

Butch growled, "I'm _not_ jealous."

Boomer gaze me the same bug-eyed look. "You were with Buttercup? Seriously?

"Yeah. Why the hell is that so surprising?"

"'Cause you could've screwed up the plan!" Butch shouted. "I mean, it's one thing if you'd gone after a hot Puff or something. But you chose the bitchy tomboy?"

"What the hell are you talking about? She is hot." What's with him? Saying she's not hot is pretty much saying he doesn't think he's hot. I mean, from what I've gathered, the girls are where we get _our_ looks from. You'd think he'd fall in love with her. "And she's pretty talented in the tongue department too."

"Chyea right," Butch muttered, but I could tell just by the distracted way he said it that he was thinking about that one.

"You said it yourself, Butch. Green eyes are sexy."

* * *

**From Chex: **I see all sorts of conflict with this chapter. And before anyone gets on my case about it, that was the extent of any ButtercupxBlaze you're going to see. I wanted to tie in a little something relating to Bell's short-lived interest in Butch at the beginning as well as reveal a bit more about Blaze's personality. Clearly, he's a bit conceited and a natural playboy, a good match for Bell's flirty nature, I think. I almost did a double POV with this chapter, splitting it with Buttercup again first and then switching to Blaze. But I felt like that'd be breaking a pattern. And I did promise Blaze this chapter. In any event, now that I edited the previous chapter I'm pretty happy with this one. (It's also happens to be the longest chapter thus far!) Feedback is always encouraged though.


	14. Bubbles 2

**From Chex:** Belated. Yes. I'm well aware of that. But I'd bet a late chapter is better than no chapter. And, for the record, I warned you all in advance that I might not be too reliable with updates. So I can't be held _that_responsible. Anyway, this chapter is in Bubbles's POV.

* * *

"Would you quit smiling like that?" Bell groaned. "You're creeping me out." Homeroom seemed as quiet as usual. Most of the guys were turned in Bell's direction, and so were the girls for that matter. But for different reasons obviously. I've learned that Bell's way of tuning this out is to doodle on her desk, books, homework, anything really.

But hopefully this'll change soon. "I'm just so happy for you!"

She ducked her head so I couldn't see her face. "Yeah, yeah. Just tone it down a little, huh? It's kind of...embarrassing how you're getting all excited. Like a mom or something."

A mom? "Sorry," I gave her an apologetic smile, which she returned, and all as forgiven. Bell's going over to Lacey McHenry's house today for their project. It's the first time she's been over anyone's house since she got here. Honestly, it's the first time she's hung out with anybody but me. I'm so glad she's making friends! Not that I don't like hanging out with Bell, but I've got to stay late and help Rachel practice our new routine. I'd hate to leave Bell alone with Buttercup and Blossom. God only knows what would happen...

Things have been rockier than usual since the, um, soccer incident. Buttercup despises Bell even more than before, if that's possible. And Blossom's kind of ticked at her too. I think it's because Bell asked the Professor if she could go to Lacey's instead of asking Blossom. That seems kind of petty to me, but Blossom's really strict about that kind of thing. She's really strict about anything concerning Bell.

"So, back to you," Bell said, switching topics. "You haven't said a word about..." Her eyes shot over to Blossom, who was probably listening but pretending not to. "You know." Then she pulled out The Book. It's a spiral, sticker-covered notebook that we use for all the things we can't say outloud. We really only use it here in homeroom since we only have this class and lunch together.

She passed The Book over to me. _We didn't even talk about what you're wearing. Are you ok with this?_

I sighed, which probably tipped her off. No, I'm not really okay with this. The idea of being alone with Boomer for who-knows how long terrifies me. Which is kind of why I've thrown myself into helping Rachael and being happy for Bell. I don't really want to think about it.

And I haven't really talked to Boomer since he asked me. At least aside from polite greetings. I don't know what to say or how to act around him. Especially since he tries so hard to get my attention now. I mean, why does he even want to go out with me? He's never really seemed interested before. In fact, he's never talked to me before this.

_I'm just not really into Boomer,_ I wrote back.

I saw her roll her eyes a little, probably thinking I was being silly again. _So cancel with Boomer and say yes to Ryan._

But I'm not that into Ryan either. Besides the fact that Amy would hate me for dating her ex, Ryan's not really...my type. He's too sports absorbed. All he talks about is football and working out. He shows off his muscles too much, which doesn't impress me at all since I can lift more than twenty times his weight. And he's immature whenever he's with the guys. They always make disgusting jokes and act like pigs. And as much as I hate to say it, he meets Buttercup's definition of a stereotypical jock _perfectly_.

He's not my type at all.

I debated on what to tell Bell. Something crackled over the intercom.

"_**--that's awesome!**_"

The room fell silent. The voice was kind of familiar. I couldn't hear exactly what it was saying though.

"_**Would you shut the hell up?!**_"

Oh...Oh no.

"_**What the hell is your problem?**_" The second voice asked, immediately recognizable this time.

"_**My problem is you've been on the phone for the past twenty minutes talking about how you're gonna screw Amy! We're supposed to be getting ready to do the announcements.**_"

"_**I am ready! And besides, have you seen her ass? Total screwability.**_"

God, I really hope they're not talking about the Amy I think they're talking about.

"_**You're such a man-whore.**_"

"_**Like you're one to talk! At least **_**I**_**don't have to go to some skanky club to get laid.**_"

By now the whole class was in hysterics. Bell was giggling uncontrollably, clutching the side of her desk. Everyone else was desperately trying to control themselves so they could hear the rest of whatever they were talking about. I don't get whats so funny about this. But I guess I'm just not amused by stuff like this. There isn't any type of altercation I find funny.

"_**...What the hell are you talking about?**_"

"_**Oh, please. You don't have to play dumb. I was there. Blonde dude at X ring a bell?**_"

There was a loud bang and I heard Buttercup shriek in a very un-Buttercup way. "_**W-What the hell, man?! Are you stalking me or something?!**_"

"_**You wish.**_" There was a crackling noise that sounded like Butch laughing. "_**So how much'd he pay you? Or was a drink all it took?**_"

"_**What I do is none of your damn business! Besides, I thought you didn't go to 'skanky clubs' like that. What were you doing there?**_"

"_**I said I didn't **_**have**_** to go there to get laid. Maybe I was just lookin' for some good drinks.**_"

"_**Or maybe you were just following me like the low-life piece of shit you are.**_"

"_**Don't flatter yourself, hon. I can, and have, done so much better. I have tactics.**_"

Buttercup barked a humorless laugh. "_**Ch'yea Right! The tactic of raping anything in a skirt, maybe.**_"

"_**It's a thoughtful operation--**_"

"_**Oh, you're right. It must take a lot of thought to operate something that **_**small**_**.**_"

"_**What did you say?!**_"

The room exploded into another round of laughter. Ms. Tank had given up on trying to control the students, which I can't recall ever happening before. Bell was laughing every bit as loud as everyone else. I think she just likes hearing Butch get told off since whatever happened with them happened. She never really gave me any details that day we saw him walking out.

Blossom looked furious. I'm not sure why though. I mean, Buttercup's done worse stuff, right? Yesterday was a perfect example of that. But, now that I think about it, she didn't really get in much trouble for that. I don't even think the Professor knows about it. And she gets to plan the Snow Ball! Since when is that considered a punishment?

There were some loud bangs and crackling over the speaker.

The next thing I heard was Buttercup's voice sounding loud and irritated as usual. "_**--off! God...Look, Ms. Merridan wants us to start...Why isn't she coming in?**_"

"_**I locked the door.**_"

"..._**the hell? Why?**_"

"_**Nn...I always leave the doors locked.**_"

Buttercup snorted. "_**Well, what the hell makes you think I wanna be locked in a room with you?**_"

"_**You've got it **_**so**_** bad for me.**_"

"_**Oh, fuck off! Let's just do the freakin' announcements and get it over with.**_"

"_**Like anyone actually listens to those things...**_"

They proceeded to go over the usual morning announcements in bored, monotone voices. This only made everyone even more hysterical since neither of them seemed aware that the whole school had heard that conversation. Blossom and I were the only ones not laughing. Bell was starting to calm herself down though. She reached for the book and I scribbled something down quickly.

_Buttercup's in sooo much trouble!_

_No more than before._

So I'm not the only one who noticed that she got off kinda easy. _That's just because Rugman hasn't called the Professor._

_He did call._ I blinked and squinted at it. I'm wearing my contacts so I think I'm reading this right.

_No he didn't._

_Did too. I answered the phone._

_Then why doesn't the Professor know?_

She shrugged. _I didn't tell him._

Of course I asked why, but she just shrugged again and put The Book away. She was pretty quiet after that. I can't help wanting to get inside her head sometimes. She's so nice, but Blossom and Buttercup don't try to see it. They treat her like crap and she's still nice enough to do something like cover for Buttercup. And sometimes I wish she wasn't so nice. Because I know Blossom and Buttercup only want to protect everyone. It's killing me, knowing all their standpoints and not being able to make them see each others.

The bell rang.

"Catch ya later," Bell waved and left, followed by a legion of fanboys.

Blossom caught my arm as I was going out the door. Her face was set in a severe frown, her eyebrows knitted together. She didn't look directly at me. "If you see Buttercup before I do tell her we need to have a talk."

"Okay," I sighed. "Just don't be too hard on her." She left without answering.

Great. Now I've got to try and calm Blossom down before she can get to Buttercup or this is going to blow up into another big argument...

Why do I always have to play peacemaker?

--

"Hey, Bubbles."

Oh, man... "Um, h-hi Boomer." He slid down in the seat next to me, giving me a wide smile. I've pretty much given up trying to avoid him. We have three out of five classes together, and he seems pretty persistent on making sure he can always get the seat next to me.

Like now. We're in Art, which is normally my favorite class. I do really good in this class. I always have, for some reason. I can get into art the way Blossom can get into a really good book or Buttercup gets into a match. I kind of lose focus on everything but that one particular thing and suddenly nothing else matters. Which is why I always draw or paint when I'm upset.

But finding that kind of inner peace is sort of difficult when the thing that's upsetting you is sitting less than three feet away.

"Uh, you know Jan usually sits there," I mentioned to him as soon as I saw her walk in. I caught her eye. She looked from me to Boomer, winked, and found a seat two tables away with Alice Beem. (We have three tables instead of desks since it's more convenient to set up easels.)

This isn't good.

Boomer shrugged. "I don't think she minds." He turned in her direction and waved. I saw Jan and Alice hide behind their hair, giggling.

"Boomer..." This is never going to work. He draws way too much attention, which is a good and bad thing. I want Ryan to get the picture so that he'll leave me alone, but I _really_ don't want this to get back to Blossom.

All Blossom did last night at dinner was go on and on about how she can't stand Brick. And I can't blame her, really. He's _is _pretty scary, rude, and antisocial. But I can only imagine what she'd say (or do) if she found out I had a date with his brother. Especially after she stressed the No Dating Ruffs rule the other night.

She'd kill me. But...

Boomer _is _cute. Really cute. Almost every girl in school thinks so. And according to Bell he has that "heroic boy-next-door look that's just too hard to resist." (I didn't even try to understand how a villain can have a heroic look.) But I can't let myself fall for that. I'm not supposed to trust him. So I won't. And I'll only go out with him this once to keep Ryan away until I can think of a gentle way to turn him down. That's all. Just this once.

"Boomer, can I ask you something?" I felt him looking at me, but instead of looking at him I focused intently on my sketchpad, trying to make the series of rough lines I'd drawn take some kind of decent shape.

"Sure. What's up?"

"Why do you want to go out with me?" He didn't answer right away and I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked...confused.

"Because you're cute...and nice," he added.

I sighed. Typical. Why do guys have to be so superficial? They only care about the way I look. No guy has ever bothered to try to learn anything about me. I'm not a doll. I'm not around just for show. I have feelings, ideas, and opinions just like everyone else. Does _anyone_ care about that? "Is that it?"

"I told you, I want to get to know you better." He grinned at me again and I tried to think of all the reasons why I shouldn't let that fool me.

_I'm not supposed to trust him. I'm not._ "Look...I don't know what you want, but you're not getting it from me," I said firmly. Bell told me the key to not getting used is to be direct with guys and don't worry so much about hurting their feelings.

Boomer stared at me, wide-eyed. "I...What? I-I wasn't trying to get you in bed or anything!" He held up his hands innocently. Several heads turned in our direction. I saw Jan and Alice give me curiously shocked looks.

Oh my God! "_What? _What are you talking about?!" My face felt like it was on fire. God, this is embarrassing. Why did he have to say that of all things? And...Oh man, everyone's staring. "Who said anything about you...us..._that_?" I asked as quietly as possible, trying to ignore all the weird looks I was getting.

"You...ah, what were _you_ talking about?" he asked, uncertainly.

"Not that!" I was just saying in general. I have no idea why Boomer's acting like this all of a sudden, but I just don't want him using me.

He scratched his head, looking almost as embarrassed as I felt. "Oh..." I turned away from him and focused back on my sketchpad. The lines still weren't making sense. They were just a messy tangle of marks all over my paper. There were holes in the paper were I'd pressed too hard without noticing.

Boomer cleared his throat. "So, um...can I get your number?"

--

I wonder where Rachel is.

Sitting on the bleachers just inside the gym, I set my bag in between two rows and waited. The gym is always open to anyone during the week until about five. Rachel and I have been in here a couple of times since last week. She really needs to work on this routine...

Rachel's been worrying all week that Amy's going to kick her off. And...I'm a little scared she might be right. Amy and the rest of the girls have never treated Rachel that well because she's...a little thicker than them. But Rachel is really serious about being a part of the team. She's been killing herself trying to get this routine down, so even if she doesn't master it I think she deserves to stay on.

The door creaked open and I jumped up, assuming it was Rachel. "Ready to start?"

It wasn't. "Hey, Bubs." Ryan entered, grinning at me. I froze, not sure if I should sit back down or not. "Can I, uh, talk to you for a second?"

Oh, no. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. "Um...sure?" Ok. I should relax. He may want to talk about something completely innocent. He's probably already over me. He might've even asked someone else out.

I sat back up on the bleachers. Ryan leaned up against them, a little closer than I would've liked but I decided not to mention it this time. "So what is it? Rachel should be coming in any minute. We're supposed to be working on the routine for the game next week. I heard the Citiesville team is pretty hard. Are you guys nervous?" I asked, hoping to distract him long enough for Rachel to come in. He didn't seem to be paying any attention to what I was saying. It took me a minute to realize he was staring at the hem of my shorts, which rose up a little when I sat down. I shifted to the side a little and he blinked. "Ryan?"

"Huh?" He sat up straighter and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Oh, right. Yeah. So, uh, I heard you and what's-his-face are dating."

Ok. I guess there's no distracting him from this. "Um, I have a date with Boomer tomorrow."

He frowned. "Yeah. That. Are you sure about it?"

No. Not at all. "What do you mean?"

He sighed and pushed away from the bleachers. "I'm just sayin', you don't...I mean, he doesn't really seem like your type."

_You're not my type either._ God, I wish I could say that. Just so he'd leave me alone and maybe then I wouldn't even have to go out with Boomer. But I won't. I could never be that..._blunt_. I bit my lip, turning my face away. "I don't know what you mean."

He groaned, frustrated I guess. He grabbed me by the shoulders. "C'mon Bubs! You don't want to go out with that loser!"

I shrugged my shoulders, frowning, and he let go. "Why would you call him that? You don't even know him."

"Everyone knows _them_. They're not...normal. And aren't they evil anyway? Isn't that bad for your image?"

I don't believe him! It's one thing for me and my sisters to have opinions about them, but no one else knows them like we do. And they haven't done anything evil in eleven years. Yeah, Brick's scary, but he doesn't outwardly bother anyone. And Butch really isn't any worse than any of the other bullies around here. And Boomer...well, he seems okay around everyone else. In fact, now that I think about it, he does seem pretty nice in class. He doesn't keep to himself the way Brick and Butch do. And he does get along with people as well as can be expected. Some people have a problem with the boys, but I haven't heard of anyone having an issue with Boomer personally.

I laughed a little bit. I can't believe I'm thinking this now.

"Bubs, I'm being serious," Ryan said, trying to get my attention. I guess he thought I was laughing at him. "He isn't good for you."

I smiled at him a little bit. "Thanks for your concern, Ryan. But I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. And I don't think my image will suffer too much." He didn't look too convinced, but he let it go.

For now anyway.

"If you say so, I guess," he mumbled. We both knew the conversation was over, he started to back out of the room. "I'm just worried for you. Let me know if you change your mind. " I nodded and he turned to leave.

"Hey, Ryan," I called. He looked over his shoulder. "Thanks for telling me." He nodded, giving me a look that said he didn't really understand what I meant but wasn't worried about it.

I smiled to myself, swinging my legs over the edge of the bleachers. I think that's exactly what I needed. Maybe I should give Boomer a shot. Sure, he was a little weird earlier, but maybe he's just as nervous about this as I am. I shouldn't hold that against him. I can't believe it took Ryan to make me see things a different way, but maybe I should go into this whole thing with a fresh mind. I think that's something Blossom's told me before. Too keep an open mind on all accounts, or something.

I mean, what's the worst that could happen?

* * *

**From Chex:** I am not satisfied with this chapter. And I doubt I ever will be. This was not how I pictured it. And I retyped it at least three times. But I guess this is the best I can do for now. I feel like I'm in a writing slump. If I hadn't taken so long to update I probably would've held this back, but I guess what I really need is feedback. So please, if you all would.


	15. Brick 3

**From Chex:**Seems like it's been a long time since I've updated. But I'm looking forward to doing this chapter since I was displeased with the last one. This will be in Brick's POV. Enjoy.

* * *

I threw the enormous bag over one shoulder and onto my back. Butch was sleeping, naturally. (God forbid he be up before noon on a Saturday.) And so was Blaze since he apparently gets his sleeping habits from Butch as well. Boomer was laid out on the couch, pulling his hair out from the looks of it. As soon as I stepped in to the room his head snapped up and he looked relieved.

"Thank God," he breathed. "I didn't know when you were coming out of there, and I didn't wanna bother since, ya know, you said not to. But I really need your help and--What the hell is that thing on your back?"

I shrugged, ignoring his question. Boomer is just about the last person I ever feel the need to explain myself to. "I'm heading out."

"Wait!" He zipped in front of me, clasping his hands in front of him and giving me what I'm sure he thought was a irresistible look. He has this puppy-dog expression that he usually only uses on girls dumb enough to fall for it. He knows it never works on me and Butch already thinks he's a girl. "C'mon bro! I really need your help! I'll get on my knees if I have to. Do you want me to get on me knees?"

As much as I'd love to watch him beg, I don't have the time. "What is it?"

"Ok, well, here's the thing." And so started the day's first Bitch & Moan session. Today's crisis was his date, the whereabouts of his date, and the activities planned for his date, which most people would've thought about in advance. And I honestly can't say I was surprised. I wouldn't have expected him to be prepared for this.

I sighed, "So, in other words, you really have no clue what the hell you're doing. You're not used to that by now?" He muttered something incoherent, pulling resiliently at his hair. He seemed a little upset. And I'm not entirely sure I understand why. He's never prepared for anything, but this is the first time I can recall him ever being upset over not knowing the answer to something.

And I think I should be a little concerned about that.

"Look, Bubbles is a..._simple_ girl," _A lot like you're a simple boy, _I could've added, but didn't. "so go with something simple."

He nodded earnestly. "Simple, simple..." He thought a minute and then gave me another imploring look.

I groaned, shoving my cap back further and trying to quell my growing irritance before I gave up on my brother and walked out of the room. As much as I can't stand his vacuousness, I do want to help him before he screws up this date and the plan regresses. "Buy her icecream, go for a walk, stare at the sky for Christ's sakes. Bubbles has got to be the least demanding girl on the planet. Do _not_ screw this up."

"Right," he agreed. "Icecream, walk, sky. 'Kay. Thanks, man."

"Good luck." And I mean that as sincerely as I've ever meant anything.

He's going to need luck.

--

After about a two minute flight, I landed quietly on the Utonium doorstep. Flying with this thing on my back wasn't exactly difficult, but not comfortable. I pressed the doorbell once and shifted my bag into my arms. It took less than a minute for someone to answer.

"Hello--Brick?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are _you_ doing here?"

I rolled my eyes. If anything's constant in this world, it's Blossom's attitude. Even at eight in the morning on a Saturday. "Nice to see you too, Pink. You gonna let me in or what?"

She didn't move. One hand was still placed on the door knob, one on her hip, and I could tell she was debating on whether or not to just shut the door and pretend I'd never showed up. But her gaze was focused on the bag in my arms. "What's that?"

"Our project."

She waited a beat longer before stepping aside and letting me in. I headed straight for the couch in the living room, setting down the bag as gently as I could. She immediately reached for it and I dropped down onto the couch beside it. The house was relatively quiet. It looked like Pinky was the only one up, which doesn't surprise me in the least.

I looked up as soon as I felt her freeze beside me. Her hands were halfway into my bag, expression somewhere between surprise, curiousity, and (still) suspicion. "Brick..." she was lifting it out, running her hands over the smooth white surface. "What is this?"

"What the hell does it look like?"

She glared at me, staring down since I was sitting. "First things first, since we're going to be working together; when I ask a question, I want a straight-forward answer."

I gave her what must have been an incredulous look since no one has _ever_ dared to talk to me like that. And it became immediately clear that developing any kind of reasonable relationship with her was never going to work. It also became quite clear that keeping her alive before it was time to kill her might not be possible either. "First things first; don't _ever_ make any demands of me," I made sure my voice was every bit as cutting as possible.

We glared at each other for a full minute. Blossom, obviously wasn't going to say anything until I answered her question, which I might've done if she wasn't so damn bitchy.

After another full minute of relentless glaring, she huffed impatiently. "Brick, if you're not going to answer my question then stop wasting my time and get out of my house."

"As much as I'd love to go back to pretending you don't exist, this project isn't optional. My being here isn't optional."

She scoffed. "I'd beg to differ. And if you're finally serious about the project then quit being so..._impossible_ and tell me what this thing is!"

"It's an egg."

"Clearly!" She threw her hands up, falling onto the couch on the opposite side of my bag. She rubbed her temples, muttering incoherently. If there's any upside to having to be around Blossom, it's seeing her upset. Her patterns are so easy to read. As soon as she comes across something she can't control (i.e. Me) she completely loses it. "Brick, I'm trying my best to tolerate you..."

I snorted. "Is that so?"

"Yes," she said, sounding pleadingly serious. "This assignment is going to take weeks at best. Toleration is the very least we can do. So there has got to be _some_ way to get through this without killing each other--" She stopped, taking in the fact that she may very well mean that last part literally. She gave me a sideways glance, then straighted up, probably realizing that she'd let her guard down a while longer than she should have. "Can you at least _try_ to be somewhat decent and reasonable?"

I smirked at her. "Who says I'm not already?"

"Brick..."

"Alright. Whatever. But I do find it interesting that you assume I'm the only reason we'll never get anything done. You're not exactly a peach to be around."

"I save pleasantries for those who deserve them."

"I suppose I should feel guilty."

"Are you going to tell me about this egg?"

I could've told her a lot about the egg. It was a pain in the ass to get, was the first thing I could've told her. I spent all of Friday getting it from Monster Isle. Not that a trip there was anything I couldn't handle, but the actual objective was a bit more difficult. I must have killed twenty something mutant things looking for it. I'm not sure where those things normally hide their eggs or nests, but it's not anywhere visible or easily accessible like normal animals. So when I found this one laying completely in the open in the shallows at the edge of the island, I figured it was either some kind of blessing or a middle finger from above.

I didn't even get back into Townsville until around one o'clock. The boys were out doing God know's what. Blaze was gone too, which was extremely disconcerting and would of been beyond enraging if I wasn't too out of it to go find their sorry asses. So instead I left a note on my door letting anyone who bothered to check know that I'd deal with whatever they'd done later and not to bother me.

But seeing as this was Blossom I was talking to, I gave her the bare minimum details.

"So this is a monster's egg..." She placed it on her lap, turning it over repeatedly and running her hands over the surface. It was bigger than her head and had the shadowy imprints of pale flesh-colored spots. "I'm not sure about this."

"Don't tell me you're scared of monsters."

She spared me a pointed look. "_No._ But I haven't got the slightest idea of how to take care of this thing."

I shrugged. "We'll treat it like a regular egg. Just don't sit on it. I don't think it could handle your weight."

Her cheeks flushed and her eyes narrowed slightly. She could barely keep from looking down at herself while she muttered, "Can you please be serious for a moment? We don't know anything about monsters in terms of their offspring. What if something goes wrong and it dies? Then we'll have to start all over again and we might not have the time for that." She gave me a look that clearly suggested that she thought I hadn't thought this through well enough.

"Then we do things based on the books. It'll probably take a little hunting, but there is no way that we're the first people to do a study on these things." But we will be the only ones to present a study like this at Pokey Oaks high, that I'm certain of.

She sighed, still looking pensive. "Well, I suppose we should get started. We're going to need to build an incubator. We'll have to put this under observation in the lab, and try to recreate the environment you found it in for optimal results. I know the water around that island has a relatively low salt concentration, but I'm not sure--"

I reached into my bag and pulled out a sealed glass beaker. I set it on the coffee table in front of us since she still had the egg in her arms. "It's a water sample. I figured you'd want it anyway, but I already tested the water and it's exactly 2.14% salt."

She blinked at me. "Oh. Well...I guess that takes care of that." Shaking her head slightly, she eased back into her recount. "We'll still need some basic visual observations, which we could take now. I'll get my notebook." Handing the egg back over to me, she got up and I allowed myself a decent look at her.

She had on a a pair of black pants. Not jeans, not khakis, not sweatpants, just..._pants_. An older person would probably refer to them as 'slacks'. And over a white button-up shirt she had a peach-colored sweater-vest. What sixteen year old girl is dressed like she's going to the office at eight o'clock on a Saturday?

"What?" she asked when she caught me staring.

I opened my mouth to offer up my opinion on her outfit, but thought better of it. Even though it was her idea to attempt to tolerate each other, I'd been trying to plan out some way to smooth things over a little. She's entirely too mistrusting of me and if I can't change that it's going to end up being a serious problem. Especially once this plan really gets going and she'll have actual _reasons_ not to trust me instead of the nagging suspicion she's going on.

I shook my head. "Nothing. Go on, we don't have all day."

Blossom narrowed her eyes slightly, but went upstairs. She returned promptly in under thirty seconds, obviously against the idea of leaving me unsupervised in her house for over a minute. Instead of just her notebook, she brought her whole bookbag. As soon as she opened it up I could see from where I was sitting that not only were all her binders and notebooks organized by size, but by color as well. She pulled out the light blue one I'd seen her with in Biology, flipping through page after page of her neat, concise handwriting before settling on a clean one. She uncapped a pen and stopped. "Maybe I should get a new notebook..."

I rolled my eyes. She must've been talking to herself since there is absolutely no way she'd assume that I cared. "Ok, so...color, shape, size, weight, circumference, temperature--it feels kind of warm...anything else?"

She'd covered just about everything. "Texture."

"Right. Then I'll get the scale and measuring tape and..." She put her pen down and sighed. "I'm really not sure about this, Brick. You do realize what's going to have to happen after this assignment, right? I fight monsters for a living. It just doesn't make much sense to me to get attached to something I'll just have to kill later."

Truer words have never been spoken. It's only too bad she can't see the irony in what's she saying.

"This is a scientific investigation. Who said anything about getting attached?" She gave me an impatient look. "It's a monster. Just keep that in mind."

I thought I heard her mumble something, but she returned to writing. Thinking on it briefly, it must have been at least five minutes since either of us had argued about anything. At least, on a considerable level. That's a quicker improvement than I would've thought possible.

"Aren't you going to write any of this down?"

I shrugged, shifting the egg so that it was resting against one arm.

Her glare returned instantly, every bit as cold, irritated, and unrelenting as usual. "I thought I told you I wasn't doing all of the work. So I suggest you take your own notes because I _won't_ be doing it for you."

"And I thought I made it clear the other day that I didn't trust you with a whole lot of this. It's bad enough I'll have to double check everything you do, but I won't waste any time fixing your so-called notes." This rebuttal was every bit as familiar as any verbal interaction I'd ever had with Blossom, and so was the rant she was warming up to.

So much for improvement.

* * *

**From Chex:** Once again, I am horribly disappointed. It feels like I've forgotten how to write or something. I had to force myself through this chapter. And I suddenly realized that it's been nearly a year since I started this story. That idea is just resonating in my head now. But anyway, I can't apologize enough for not only the wait but this heart-breaking disappointment of a chapter. Please do not be shocked if I edit or completely re-write this. I'm so unsatisfied right now...


	16. Boomer 2

**From Chex:**...Something tells me nothing I say will be sufficient enough to account for my absence. So I'll get straight to the chapter and skip the excuses. Boomer's POV.

* * *

"I'm leaving!"

"I don't give a shit!" Butch yelled back from his room.

_And I'm taking your car,_ I thought, grinning while I straightened my shirt. The only thing I could find to wear that wasn't dirty or stuck to something was a white button-up over a navy blue t-shirt. I think Blaze has been taking some of my clothes.

Blaze looked up as I walked past the kitchen to the door. His hair's still blond from last night. Not quite as blonde as mine, but blond enough. He was busy rooting through all the cupboards. Looking for something to eat, I guess. "Where are you going?"

"I've got a date."

"Oh, right." He rose an eyebrow. "I'm assuming you've got a plan."

"Uh..." I scratched my head. Plan? What was it Brick said? God, he left hours ago. I don't remember. Something about an ice walk or something... "We're going ice-skating."

He blinked, staring at me like I just said we were going to go burn down some village in China. "That," he said slowly. "doesn't sound like something you'd do."

He's right. I'm not even sure I know how to ice-skate. "Yeah, well, it was Brick's idea."

"He told you to take your assignment ice-skating?" I shrugged. It was something like that. "Well, good luck with that."

"Good luck finding some food," I told him as I left.

Downstairs, I passed Butch's Karma, then stopped. I hadn't been seriously considering taking it, but...why the hell not? It might impress Bubbles, and it'll definitely piss Butch off. Besides, he taught me how to hot-wire these things in the first place. I don't do it very often since, obviously, I can fly. But driving's pretty cool when you have a kick-ass car.

I had briefly considered getting Bubbles some flowers or something like that. But Butch would have a field day if he saw me carrying a bunch of daisies or something. And it is kind of a pussy thing to do. But the thing is, I think Bubbles might actually respond to that. She seems like the kind of girl who would buy into guys being all sweet and whipped.

Butch can say what he wants, but he only knows how to deal with one kind of girl, and that's the easy kind. He doesn't know how to fake how he feels or acts when he's with a girl. I mean, yeah, he can pretend he's interested in her, but only for so long. At least I bother to try and figure out a decent approach. Sure, I don't always get it right. And yeah, if she's not reasonably hot I probably won't bother, but I think about it. Sometimes.

I know Brick thinks I'm gonna screw this up, but I bet I end up doing better than him and Butch. They think I'm stupid. And I'll admit, my grades are crap, and I don't always understand what's going on, and I space out a lot. But girls? Girls I _do_ get. At least a little. I know they like to be complimented. They like it when you listen to them (or pretend to, anyway). And if you smile at them the right way, they go absolutely crazy.

Why should Bubbles be any different?

As I pulled up to the house, I tried to remember exactly what it was that Brick had said. He used the word simple a lot. And ice was definitely mentioned. I guess I've gotten so used to tuning Brick out over the years that I don't really know how to tune back in.

I rang the doorbell and shook my hair out. I didn't really occur to me that someone else might answer the door until it was flung open and I was staring at a pair of angry green eyes.

"What the hell do _you_ want?" Buttercup asked, practically hissing at me. She had one hand on the door and her hip against the frame; wide enough to for me to get the full effect of her Pissed Off stance, but not enough to get in. "Oh, wait. Let me guess," she opened the door wide enough for me to see into the living room. Blossom was perched on the couch talking to...Brick? "You're here to get that one, right? It's about time."

"Actually I, um, I'm here to see your sister." _Wait, she's got three of those._ "Bubbles," I clarified.

Her eyes narrowed and she looked like she was about to bite me. "What do you want with my sister?"

"Who is it?" I heard Blossom call from the living room.

Buttercup moved aside so she could see me, leaning fully against the frame, but subtly shifting her leg to block the doorway so that I'd have to step over her to get in. And something tells me that wouldn't be quite as simple as it sounds...

"What's he doing here?" Blossom asked, glancing from Buttercup to Brick, her eyes barely skimming over me. I saw him shrug, then raise an eyebrow at me. Like he doesn't know why I'm here. Jerk.

"He says he's here to see Bubbles," Buttercup answered, never taking her eyes off me. The scowl on her face reminded me of the time I tried to make water balloons with boiling water when I was eight and tested it out on Butch...The end result was not pretty.

"Why do you want to see Bubbles?" Blossom asked, her eyes narrowing too.

They don't know. Bubbles didn't tell them.

Which, admittedly makes sense. The way they're looking at me right now, I doubt they'd be willing to let me anywhere near her, let alone on an unsupervised date. Brick was right when he said they'd be suspicious, but...

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

I saw a flash of white on the stairs just behind Brick and Blossom. Bell peeked her head around the corner just long enough for me to catch her gaze. Her eyes widened slightly, then she disappeared back up the stairs.

Okay. So she's not gonna help me.

I looked over at Brick again. He stared back blankly like what was going on here had nothing to do with him. What the hell kind of brother does that?

"Hey!" Buttercup shoved against my shoulder. "We asked you a question; what the hell do you want with Bubbles?"

"We, uh..." _Ah, hell. I might as well go through with it._ "We have a date. Today."

She and Blossom both blinked, mirroring each other's confused/surprised expression. "What?" they said simultaneously.

"With _you_?" Buttercup stopped looking vicious long enough to sneer at me. "What in hell's name would possess her to go on a date with _you_?"

_You're not exactly a catch yourself, sweetheart._ I looked away so I wouldn't glare at her. If she responds the way Butch does, a wrong look could be considered a challenge. And I'm not dumb enough to think that I could actually take on Buttercup. At least, not alone since it looks like Brick doesn't plan on getting involved.

Bell came back down the stairs and I got hopeful again. But she avoided looking in my direction this time. She immediately went into the next room. I'm not sure why I thought she'd help. But I guess out of all the girls, including Bubbles, she's the only one who treats me like I'm a normal person. And by that I mean, she doesn't hate or fear me one way or the other.

"Bell?" Blossom called, glancing over her shoulder.

"Yeah?" she called back from the other room.

"Can you get Bubbles for us?"

"She's not here."

_What?_ "What?" Blossom said, then turned back to me. It took me a minute to realize we'd both said that out loud. "Where is she?"

Bell strolled back in looking bored and holding a bottled water. She shrugged, then glanced at the door where Buttercup was still keeping me safely outside of her house. She rose an eyebrow at me, looking curious. Like seeing me _again_ was surprising. "What's he doing here?"

"He says he has a date with Bubbles."

She directed her curious look at Blossom, almost defiantly. "Since when are you allowing that?"

Blossom glared at her. "I'm not."

No one said anything for a minute. Buttercup tapped her foot impatiently against the door frame, tired of playing gatekeeper, I guess.

Bell shrugged again. She looked at me again, her expression looking disturbingly like Brick's; like whatever was going on didn't involve her so she didn't care. "Well, she's not here anyway. So whatever date you had planned must be canceled."

I blinked. Canceled? Seriously? "But-"

And then I was staring at the door as it shut about an inch away from my face.

A minute passed.

Then another.

And another...

_She's standing me up. She's freakin' standing me up! _Bubbles, the sweetest Powerpuff ever to live. The cutesy, innocent girl that's nice to everyone. The cheerleader who loves every living thing on the planet. Is standing. Me. Up.

"That _bitch!_ That lying little cunt! That-"

"Boomer?"

I jumped. "What the-"

Bubbles came around the corner, brushing leaves off of her skirt. Her hair was pulled back with a large clip (I almost didn't recognize her without the pigtails.) and she was wearing a little white mini, a yellow halter top, and an apologetic little smile on her face. "Sorry. I knew they wouldn't let me leave so I had to go out the window." She pointed up. "Did they give you a hard time?"

I stared at her. Probably because it was the first time she'd spoken to me like I was a normal human being. "Huh?"

Her smile fell a little. "My sisters. Were they hard on you?"

"Oh. Uh...no?"

She brightened a little bit. "That's good. Who were you talking to?"

"Huh?"

"Just a second ago..."

Oh, crap. Tell me she didn't hear any of that. "No one. So, um, we should get going." I pointed towards the car.

She seemed a little surprised by it. "This is your car?" she asked as we climbed in. I decided to take it easy on the acceleration. She doesn't seem like much of a speed racer.

"It's Butch's. I kinda borrowed it." He'll probably kill me afterwards. For some reason, after seeing Buttercup, the thought of pissing him off doesn't seem all that appealing. Maybe I can leave it at the girl's house once I drop her off. He might think Brick took it. "I like driving instead of flying sometimes."

"Me too. I don't get to do it often though. The professor won't buy us a car."

"Why don't you just-..." Oh. Duh. She can't steal one. She's a superhero.

"Just what?"

I shook my head. That must be such a drag. "Nothing. So why doesn't he want you to have a car?" I glanced over at her.

She folded her hands up. "It's not that he doesn't want us to _have_ one. He'd just rather build one than buy one. And when he tries to do stuff like that he goes a little...overboard. Like putting in lasers and cloaking thingies and stuff."

That sounds freakin' awesome. I've gotta get Mojo to build something like that. "What's wrong with that?"

She shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. We just kinda want a normal car. Buttercup more than any of us. I bet she'd love this."

"Butch sure loves it. I think he's planning to marry the thing."

She giggled. This is going to be a piece of cake. Hell if I know what's happened, but clearly she's gotten over her fear of me. I'm pretty sure I'm still ahead of my brothers. But now that I think about it... "Hey, what was Brick doing at your house?"

She blinked at me, surprised. "He and Blossom are partnered for a project in Bio. You didn't know?"

"Nah. He doesn't tell us anything."

It got quiet. She turned to look out the window. This is turning out to be much easier than I thought. She must've just been PMS-ing or something the other day. She's being totally normal now. Nice even.

"So where are we going?"

"Actually, we're..." I took a right and turned into a a huge parking lot. The rink is built almost like a mini stadium with a dome. We pulled in right next to a large blue SUV. "...here."

"The ice-skating rink?" She grinned at me, visibly excited. "Oh, you should've told me. I would've brought my skates."

I shrugged, smiling back. "I wanted to surprise you." This is _so_ easy.

"Rentals are fine then. Let's go!" She was already getting out of the car.

_Rentals? Oh, crap._ I felt my back pocket. _Please tell me I still have the pizza guy's wallet..._Not a chance. I must've left it home.

"Are you coming?" She came around to my side. I had the door half open. "What's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing. I just...You go on inside. I've just got to get something." Like some cash from God know's where.

As soon as she left I started rooting through the glove compartment. There wasn't anything in it but some registration papers that must've belonged to the guy Butch stole this car from. And a black and red lace bra with a torn strap. Interesting, but not useful.

I got out and went through the trunk. Nothing but more useless crap and the panties that went with that bra. I was starting to wonder what the hell that girl was wearing when she got _out_ of the car, when I man stepped out of the SUV.

He was talking loudly into an earpiece, the universal tag of a douchebag. He wasn't paying me the least bit of attention.

Which made it pretty easy to come up on him and clock him clear across the face.

He fell forward and I grabbed him by the back of his shirt. "Sorry dude." I snatched the earpiece out and crushed it in my fist. Reaching around with my free hand, I unlocked the back door and threw him across the back seat. There was a little blood on the edge of his mouth and his jaw would probably swell to the size of a grapefruit by the time he woke up, but that's not really my problem.

His wallet contained exactly sixty dollars and seventeen cents, a two-month-old receipt for a toaster oven, gift cards for Walmart and the movie theater, and a driver's license that read 'Wismur Allen'.

_Wismur_. The poor bastard.

"Thanks for the loan, Wiz." I dropped the wallet on his chest. "You can keep the other crap." I pushed his legs over so they weren't in the way of the door, then slammed it shut. "Oh, wait..." I opened the door again. Laid across the back of the passenger seat was a light gray hoodie with blue lettering across the back that read: 'Like a Champ'. "I'll take that." I think Blaze has all my hoodies.

Bubbles was waiting just inside the entrance. To be honest, she looked a little nervous, hugging her arms around herself. God, I hope she's not rethinking this. "Um, hey." She jumped a little at the sound of my voice.

"Oh. Where were..." She looked at the hoodie slung over my shoulder. She smiled at me. "Did you get that for me?"

...No. "Uh, yes?" I handed it over to her.

"That's so sweet!" She pulled it over her head quickly. "I was worried I wasn't really dressed for this. It's so cold in here." She pulled at the sleeves to get her hands through. It was a couple sizes too big for her. "Thank you," she said, her eyes all bright and shiny like I'd just ended world hunger.

"No problem." I tried to smile back and hoped it looked just as sincere. "Let's go."

As it turns out, ice-skating isn't really uncommon around here. It was way more crowded than I would've thought, although more people were milling around and talking instead of skating. I recognized a few faces from school. Not that I could place a name to any of them.

Bubbles was smiling and waving at everyone. "Hey Issie!" A brunette in glasses waved as she passed us.

"You know everyone in this town, don't you?" I asked her as a group of guys walked behind her, checking out her legs which, honestly, did look a mile long in that skirt.

She shrugged somewhat modestly. "Not _everyone_."

We stood outside just off the ice. "Um, I probably shoulda mentioned this, but I've never ice-skated before."

She smiled at me like that was the most adorable thing in the world. "It's easy. It's just like roller skating. You know how to roller skate." That wasn't a question. The way she said it, I was reminded of the one and only time she'd seen me skate and I winced. I searched her face for any sign of fear or anger, but she seemed fine. Either she wasn't bothered by it, or she didn't want to dwell on it. "You'll get it in a second."

She hesitated a little before grabbing my hand and pulling me out onto the ice.

Balance came easily. I let her lead me for a bit while I got control of my speed and direction. Then I let go off her hand. It was exactly like rollerblading. Just colder.

Bubbles nodded at me over her shoulder. "See? It's easy." She sped up, leaving me behind and rushing into a series of small turns and jumps. Even for having superpowers she was really graceful. She did a full circle of the rink before coming back up behind me.

I grinned at her. "Were you showing off for me?"

Her cheeks flushed a little bit deeper. "...Maybe a little."

_I hope I'm judging this timing thing right._ I grabbed her hand again and pulled her closer. "You looked really beautiful."

She looked away. "T-Thank you." I tried not to smirk, watching as a blush crept across her face and up to her ears. That worked better than I thought it would. I figured she'd be more used to hearing stuff like that from guys. "L-Listen Boomer, I just wanted you to know...I know I've been acting a bit weird around you. And I can't say I'm _completely_ comfortable with the idea of us, um...hanging out."

Uh-oh. This doesn't sound like it's headed in a good direction.

"But I do think everyone deserves a second-chance."

Ok. Getting better...

"So if you meant what you said about us getting to know each other...I'm okay with that."

I sighed, relieved. God, why do I feel like I just dodged a bullet? "That's great!"

"That doesn't mean I want to rush into anything," she added quickly, sending me a quick look that, I think, was supposed to be stern. She doesn't do stern very well.

"But...does that mean that this might not be our only date?" I asked with just the right level of hopefulness.

She giggled a little. "We'll see." Letting go of my hand, she slid away from me, twisting and turning on the ice to form a perfect figure 8. Watching her, I felt another little smirk creep up on my face.

_Piece. Of. Cake._

* * *

**From Chex: **It's official. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm not even going to _pretend _I know what I'm doing anymore. Que sera sera. And although I'm calmly typing this, I'm also simultaneously pulling at my hair and crying tears of relief that I've finally gotten this chapter out of my brain and onto the web. Albeit, it's crap. But it's crap that took me weeks to type, so I'll work with it. Feedback please! Does Boomer sound too smart?


End file.
